


Wings of Change

by AbbyGold



Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: Cats, Multi, Original Character(s), Original Character-centric
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:35:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 36,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26655271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AbbyGold/pseuds/AbbyGold
Summary: After a devastating leaf-bare, ThunderClan's population has been decimated. New apprentices Ravenpaw and her brother Crowpaw represent a positive future for the Clan, and they are determined to prove themselves worthy.However, a rough leaf-bare is only the start of the Clan cats' problems. Tensions between Clans are high, and beliefs are being tested left and right. Ravenpaw is torn between doing what is expected, doing what is right, and doing what her heart wants.The life of a Clan cat is not as black-and-white as some elders would tote, and Ravenpaw is going to learn this the hard way.
Comments: 15
Kudos: 12





	1. Prologue

A cool, late greenleaf breeze passed through the ThunderClan camp as a small black tomcat paced restlessly in front of a thick bramble bush. On occasion he would stop, stare into the bush, then twitch his whiskers and keep pacing.

The tom was barely visible in the night’s darkness, only the white on his paws, tail, and chest reflected the moon’s light. A rustle from the bramble bush caught his attention and his entire body tensed as a white cat with dark tabby patches emerged.

“Really, Bravestar,” the newcomer snapped, “we can hardly concentrate with all the noise you’re kicking up out here.”

The black tom looked a little abashed. “I’m sorry, Frostwhisker,” he responded, sitting down, “I’m just anxious, is all.”

Frostwhisker snorted. “No need to be, everything is fine. I’ve left Minnowpelt to finish up.”

Bravestar looked longingly toward the nursery, knowing better than to barge in before the medicine cat gave him the go-ahead.

Frostwhisker continued to speak. “I think I’ll be joining the elders come Newleaf,” he rasped. Bravestar fixed his yellow gaze on the other cat, startled. The eldery tom had been around since his own kitting, and the kitting of his parents besides. He couldn’t imagine having any other medicine cat, despite the fact that Minnowpelt proved herself heartily over the seasons. “My eyes and ears don’t work as well as they used to, and my joints don’t hold up well to collecting herbs that are too distant.” Frostwhisker sat and curled his white tail around his paws. “Yes, I’ll see Minnowpelt through Leaf-bare and then leave her the mantle.”

Bravestar knew better than to argue with the short-tempered tom. He dipped his head to the other cat. “You have more than earned many seasons of rest, Frostwhisker.” In response, the tabby-and-white cat snorted and twitched his long white whiskers.

“Bravestar?” a soft voice came from the nursery entrance as a soft grey tabby she-cat emerged. “You can come in now.”

Bravestar leaped to his paws and meowed a hurried ‘thank you’ to Minnowpelt before disappearing quickly into the nursery.

His eyes took a moment to adjust to the darkness of the den, which smelled faintly of warm milk. Quickly, the dark shape of his mate became apparent and he moved to her side, giving her ear a tender lick.

“How are you?” he asked softly, with love in his voice.

The all-black she-cat blinked sleepily at him and purred. “I’m well. Look,” she swept aside her sleek black tail to reveal two tiny black kits suckling at her belly. Bravestar looked at them in awe, then crouched closer to his newborn kits. He gave one of them a sniff, which caused it to move its head toward him and open its tiny pink mouth in a squeal. The two adult cats chuckled in response.

“I’ve thought of names already,” the she-cat, Nightbriar, purred.

Bravestar settled down and tucked his front paws under his body. He butted his head gently against Nightbriar’s. “Let’s hear them.”

Nightbriar used her tail to gently stroke the black kit that had a similar white pattern to its father. “This one, a tom, Crowkit.” She moved her tail to the other kit, from this view as jet black as its mother. “And a she-cat, Ravenkit.”

Bravestar tilted his head. “Matching names,” he murmured, then purred. “I like it.” Nightbriar purred back at him.

The Clan leader stayed with his mate until she fell deeply asleep. Bravestar wished to sleep here also, but it was best to leave Nightbriar alone with their kits for now. He gave her a gentle nuzzle, then gave each of his kits a soft lick. Crowkit mewled in response.

Bravestar slipped out of the den to see that Frostwhisker was still there, paws tucked under his body, dozing. He nudged the older tom gently awake.

“If you’re going to sleep, it should be in your den,” Bravestar informed him teasingly.

Frostwhisker snorted. “You sound like Minnowpelt,” he grumbled, getting stiffly to his paws. The two cats walked slowly to the medicine den cave.

“Good night, Frostwhisker, and thank you for seeing Nightbriar kit safely,” Bravestar bid farewell to the medicine cat, and turned to pad toward his own den.

He suddenly felt the old tom smack his tail on his shoulder, and Bravestar looked over, startled. But Frostwhisker wasn’t looking at him,and motioned his tail upward. Bravestar followed his gaze and gasped.

Dozens and dozens of lights streaked across the night sky in a beautiful display. The two cats watched for long minutes, until the star shower stopped.

“What does it mean?” Bravestar whispered, awed.

“I don’t know,” Frostwhisker snapped in response, irritated. “You think StarClan gives me a running commentary on their schemes?” he flicked his tail and started to walk into his den. “I’ll tell you if I have any clarifications.”

“Thank you, Frostwhisker. Sleep well,” Bravestar called after him. He knew he should sleep, but he was far too excited, and mystified by the phenomenon he’d just witnessed. He knew it was a medicine cat’s job to interpret StarClan’s signs, but he couldn’t help but think that it meant his kits were destined for great things.


	2. Paws on the Ground

Ravenpaw puffed out her chest as far as it would go as the Clan called out her and Crowpaw’s names concluding their apprentice ceremony. The black she-cat looked over at her brother, who met her yellow eyes with his own green ones. He was also brimming with happiness.

As the chanting ended, Ravenpaw looked around at the assembled Clan. Her mentor, Patchsplash, sat near her, and Crowpaw’s new mentor, Dusktail, sat near him. Ravenpaw was happy for her brother, although slightly jealous that she didn’t get the deputy as her mentor instead. Still, Patchsplash was an excellent senior warrior, and she would do her best to make him proud.

Her gaze lingered over the rest of the cats in the Clan, of which there were only eight. This past Leaf-bare had been absolutely devastating for ThunderClan, and if rumors from the Gatherings were true, the other Clans had also suffered great losses. Starvation, illness, and attacks from hungry predators had taken the majority of their Clanmates from them in the worst few moons in living memory.

Elders Poppylark and Snakefang had been doing their best to hunt for their Clan, even though they’d earned their retirement already over many seasons of service. Poppylark had regained some vigor by getting out, but Snakefang needed more and more trips to Frostwhisker’s den to maintain his joints. Ravenpaw vowed to see them retired once more and would work extra hard to make it happen.

Two pale-coated queens sat outside the nursery with their kits, eyes shining with pride. Wrenheart, a white-and-grey cat with soft fur and gentle blue eyes had acted as Ravenpaw and Crowpaw’s mother when Nightbriar died. Her son, Stagkit, was doing a poor job hiding his jealousy. From faking sleep and overhearing the older cats talk, Ravenpaw knew that there was the chance the moon-younger kit would be apprenticed at the same time as herself and her brother, but ultimately Bravestar decided to abide by the warrior code and wait for the kit to reach six moons. Stagkit was clearly displeased with the decision, but it was probably for the best.

Beside Wrenheart was the silver tabby Willownose, her moon-old kit wiggling next to her. It was a pity not only that the queen had lost her mate, but he went to join StarClan before he even got to see the birth of Pinekit.

Frostwhisker sat near his den, the thin medicine cat observing with no discernable emotion. His apprentice, Minnowpelt, had passed from the sickness, and since then the tom had barely cared for himself. Ravenpaw felt pity for the elderly cat, knowing that he should be living carefree in the elder’s den by now.

Finally, her gaze settled on Bravestar, her father. Their identical yellow eyes met, and Ravenpaw could see the pride in her leader’s eyes. She had desperately hoped he would train her, but learned it was best for warriors to not mentor their own kits in case they went too easy on them. Stagkit would get that honor when the time came, not because Bravestar was the only option for him, but because he was the deputy’s kit. Or so Ravenpaw was told, at least.

“What do you say, Dusktail? Shall we take our new apprentices on dawn patrol?” Patchsplash meowed to his deputy.

The light brown-and-white tabby nodded, standing and flicking his darker toned tail toward some of the other cats. “Poppylark, Snakefang, Wrenheart, you’re on hunting duty today.” The addressed cats nodded and got up. Since her kit was older, Wrenheart was also acting as a warrior again. Besides, Willownose could easily handle both Stagkit and Pinekit by herself.

Excitement rushed through Ravenpaw’s body as her patrol gathered to leave the camp. She heard Bravestar’s voice call out before they left. “Be sure to listen to your mentors and behave! You represent the future of ThunderClan!”

“We will!” Crowpaw called back, excitement brimming in his green eyes.

The four cats slipped out the thorn tunnel and away from the gorge that made up ThunderClan’s camp. Dusktail set a quick pace, and soon Ravenpaw could scent water. A massive tree loomed up ahead. Ravenpaw exchanged an excited glance with her brother.

“This,” Patchsplash gestured to the tree, “is the Sky Oak.” The apprentices gawked at its massive form. “It is excellent to train for climbing and to build strength. If you look past, you’ll see the lake.”

The source of the watery scent was vast and glittery in the newleaf sun. Ravenpaw regarded it in awe, squinting against the reflected light.

Dusktail’s curt meow cut through Ravenpaw’s admiration of the scene. “You’ll see this plenty more times in the future, let’s go.”

As he padded off, Ravenpaw caught Patchsplash’s gaze. The warrior rolled his eyes, and the apprentice suppressed a chuckle.

They moved on, and eventually Ravenpaw’s ears picked up the sound of running water. Dusktail explained that this river separated ThunderClan and WindClan’s territories, and following it upstream eventually led to the Moonpool. Ravenpaw wiggled a little in wonder. The Moonpool! The place medicine cats go to communicate with their warrior ancestors, and where leaders go to get their nine lives from StarClan!

Ravenpaw suddenly felt a touch on her shoulder and looked over to see Patchsplash gesturing ahead. The young cat looked over to see Crowpaw stalking up to a water vole. Ravenpaw held her breath, silently rooting for her brother. The young tom suddenly sprang at the prey and slammed down on it with one paw. Unfortunately, the blow didn’t kill it, and the vole let out a shrill scream before Crowpaw gave it a death bite to the neck.

Dusktail lashed his tail in annoyance. “Well, the rest of us won’t be eating any time soon, with the noise that thing just made.” He then turned and stalked up the river, expecting the group to follow. Crowpaw picked up the vole, looking abashed. Ravenpaw walked over and brushed her tail over his face.

“Good going, mouse-brain,” she teased. Patchsplash approached.

“That was very good for a first try,” he complimented the young cat. “Carry that until the rest of us can get something, alright?” Crowpaw nodded.

Ravenpaw was suddenly very aware of how empty her belly was and hoped they wouldn’t have to travel far before they found prey that hadn’t heard the vole’s alarm cry.

Eventually Dusktail and Patchsplash caught their own prey, Patchsplash making sure to have Ravenpaw watch him closely as he took down a squirrel. He shared his kill with her, which she was very grateful for.

By sunhigh, the group had patrolled the entire border, from near the Moonpool, by the abandoned twolegplace, and down the ShadowClan border. Ravenpaw and Crowpaw made it back to camp exhausted, their paws aching. Their mentors gave them the rest of the day off, and Ravenpaw was looking forward to napping in the sun.

“Crowpaw! Ravenpaw!” a voice called out, and Stagkit came bounding over, a smaller copy of his father, Dusktail. “What did you see? Did you catch any prey? Did you have to fight off any trespassers?”

“No, no trespassers,” Crowpaw responded, yawning. “I caught a vole, though.” He shot a look at Ravenpaw, silently pleading that she didn’t tell the younger cat his hunting error.

“It was quite impressive,” Ravenpaw contributed.

Stagkit looked at her. “Did _you_ catch anything?”

“Well, no-”

“Oh, well, I’m sure you will next time.” Ravenpaw’s fur pricked at the kit’s audacity.

“Listen, we’re really tired, so we’re gonna go to the apprentice den now,” Ravenpaw meowed briskly, padding off.

“Aww, but it’s so boring without you guys!” Stagkit whined.

Dusktail suddenly appeared on the scene. He gave the young cat a soft cuff over his ears. “Your former denmates started their path to become warriors today,” he lectured, “they’ve earned some peace and quiet from obtrusive kits.”

Stagkit shrank, averting his gaze. “Yes Dusktail,” he muttered, then slinked off back to the nursery area. Willownose was outside with young Pinekit, who was frisking around and playing with a ball of moss. Ravenpaw briefly felt bad for the other kit; his only kit denmate was far younger than him, and they couldn’t playfight the way he was used to. However, weariness soon stopped Ravenpaw from feeling nearly anything except being tired, and she settled in the sun to nap next to Crowpaw.


	3. Kitty Encounter

Ravenpaw gently set one paw in front of the other, her yellow gaze fixed on the small red squirrel nibbling on an acorn a couple fox-lengths away. The young cat stuck to the shadows, her dark pelt camouflaging her from her prey, her scent carried away on the wind. Just a few more steps and…

Ravenpaw leaped, catching the squirrel easily in her claws. She killed it quickly, still remembering Crowpaw’s loud kill on their first time out. The she-cat clawed some dirt out from under some nearby tree roots, shoved her kill in, then covered it up to retrieve later. She stepped away, closed her eyes, and opened her mouth to let the scents of the forest come to her. The faint scent of blood and the squirrel she just caught wafted over to her, and she also discerned the moist forest soil, rotting leaves from the previous leaf-fall, and… water!

The breeze shifted, promising water nearby. It wasn’t rain, Ravenpaw knew that, and with a jolt she realized it was the river that separated ThunderClan and WindClan’s territories. Her whiskers twitched, and she suddenly got an idea. She was alone on her hunting mission, and she was _pretty_ sure Patchsplash wasn’t watching her, so no one would be angry with her if she went to go and see the Moonpool, would they?

Paws tingling with excitement, Ravenpaw took off North, nimbly dodging through trees and jumping over any undergrowth. The ability to just run, to go as far as she could without walls stopping her, was exhilarating, and Ravenpaw’s heart raced with the thrill of it.

Eventually she slowed down, breathing heavily, picking her way more slowly toward the sacred Moonpool. The scent of water was much stronger now, and her heart beat with exhilaration. Just as she glimpsed the glint of water through the trees, something exploded out of the bushes nearby.

Ravenpaw let out a yowl of surprise as a rabbit nearly collided with her, then took off running. Instinctually, the black she-cat pelted off in pursuit, abandoning her quest for now. She needed to feed her Clan!

The rabbit must have been away from its normal part of the forest, because it didn’t dive into any burrows, and any safety it tried to stick itself into Ravenpaw managed to flush it out again quickly. Eventually the chase ended, with the rabbit running out of energy and Ravenpaw dispatching of its life quickly thereafter.

Ravenpaw flopped down in exhaustion, not used to so much running. She lazily buried the rabbit and tried to catch her breath. She relaxed for a time, and slowly cleaned dirt and debris from her claws before finally sitting up and deciding to head back to camp. Ravenpaw was about to retrieve her rabbit when she made the realization that she didn’t recognize where she was. She could not detect the scent of ThunderClan’s border, or any hint of water.

Panic began to set in until she remembered that she could probably just follow her own scent back to where she came from, although she’d never had to follow her own scent before, but it couldn’t be that hard, right?

The she-cat was about to set off home when the breeze carried another scent to her, tantalizing and mysterious. Ravenpaw’s mouth watered and her stomach growled as she identified the scent of some sort of prey, like a bird. Ravenpaw hesitated, looking at the sky. The sun was beginning to set, but it wouldn’t be dark for a while yet. She wouldn’t be missed too badly, would she? Besides, she’d be really quick, back before anyone even noticed.

The excitement of adventure riding in her chest, Ravenpaw followed the scent, going more cautiously this time, now that she was in unfamiliar territory. A jolt of panic shot through Ravenpaw as she realized all sorts of dangers that could be lurking out here; foxes, badgers, rogue cats!

Crowpaw was usually the one that acted as her voice of reason; when they were kits, he’d talk her out of all sorts of shenanigans and make sure she didn’t do anything too dangerous. But now that they weren’t together all the time, Ravenpaw didn’t have anyone telling her no.

The young cat crept carefully through the forest, following the strange scent. Soon she could see a strange, large… thing in the distance, through the trees. Ravenpaw kept going, and soon realized that it was a wooden twoleg den. A pretty fence surrounded the garden, where beautiful flowers and trim bushes ruffled lightly in the wind. Ravenpaw clawed her way up a tree and crouched on a low branch to get a better look. In the corner, surrounded by shiny mesh, was a tiny den, with strange creatures inside. They looked like huge, fat birds, strutting along the ground, head and necks bobbing. Ravenpaw’s jaw dropped. Those things were bigger than her! Just one could probably feed her whole Clan! Not that she’d ever be able to even carry that home.

Carefully, Ravenpaw jumped from the branch and into the garden, stalking slowly over to the grounded birds. A sudden hiss caused her to jump and fluff up her fur.

“Leave here, you mangy wild creature!”

Ravenpaw looked sideways to see a beautiful, delicate she-cat glaring at her with stunning blue eyes, her back arched and the cream-coloured fur along her spine prickling,a powder-blue collar snug around her neck. She also had a very round midsection, indicating that this cat was heavy with kits.

“I- I’m not mangy!” Ravenpaw protested, fur prickling, torn between standing up for herself, but also realizing this garden was this other cat’s territory. She was beautiful, with creamy fur and dark markings on her face, paws, and tail, but Ravenpaw could also see that she was soft and delicate, a kittypet born and raised. “I’m sorry I’m in your garden, but,” she flicked her tail over toward the birds, “can you tell me what those are?”

The kittypet looked taken aback, clearly confused that Ravenpaw chose to converse instead of fight or flee. She recovered quickly and hissed again. “You leave the chickens alone!”

“Chickens, huh?” Ravenpaw relaxed slightly, looking over at them. The kittypet stalked over to stand between her and the birds. “Do you hunt them?”

“No! And neither will you!”

“Okay, okay! I understand, you’re defending your territory. Pretty good, for a kittypet.” Ravenpaw turned and clawed her way up the fence, pausing at the top. “I’m Ravenpaw, by the way. I live in ThunderClan, have you heard of us?”

The kittypet snorted, her fur laying flat again as she sat down and lifted one paw to wash delicately. “I don’t associate with wild moggies. I have pedigree.”

Ravenpaw blinked. “What’s that?”

“It means that my parents were important, as were their parents before them, and so my kits shall be. It means my family is pampered by their housefolk more than any mangy cat from the street.”

Ravenpaw scratched one ear with a hind leg. “Well, I’m not pampered by twolegs – and I don’t want to be – but my father is leader of ThunderClan, and that’s very important, so I guess I have pedigree too.”

Rage burned in the kittypet’s eyes. “You do _not_!” She stood and fluffed her fur up again. “Leave my garden, and don’t come back!”

“Alright, fine, I’m going.” Ravenpaw turned and bunched her muscles. “It was, um, interesting to meet you!” The apprentice was genuine about that, as the beautiful kittypet was the first new cat she’d ever met outside of ThunderClan, even if the interaction went poorly.

Buzzing with excitement, Ravenpaw raced back toward home, remembering to pick up her buried prey along the way.

* * *

Ravenpaw lay low on the ground, ears flat, trying to avoid the disapproving gaze of the adult cats around her. Crowpaw sat nearby, kneading his claws anxiously on the ground.

“It’s a blatant disregard of instruction and authority,” Dusktail was saying, tail lashing.

“But not the warrior code,” Patchsplash pointed out, sitting with his tail wrapped neatly around his paws. His gold eyes flicked briefly to Ravenpaw. “She didn’t trespass on another Clan’s territory, simply left our own.”

“We have territory markers for a _reason_ ,” Dusktail snapped. “Countless dangers can lurk outside our boundaries, more than a match for a new apprentice, alone. It also wasted precious time that could have been used hunting to feed our Clan.”

Patchsplash remained cool and collected in the face of his deputy. “Ravenpaw is an excellent hunter, even with her detour she brought back more than what was expected of her.” The older tom turned to address his leader, who had been listening to the exchange with a blank expression. “I believe my punishment, as her mentor, is appropriate.”

Bravestar stood and looked at Ravenpaw. “Stand like a warrior,” he commanded.

Ravenpaw scrambled to her paws, her tails still drooping but her chin was raised, and she raised her eyes to hold her father’s gaze.

“A compromise,” he stated, “you will be at Poppylark and Snakefang’s beck and call for the next few days, in addition to fulfilling your regular duties.” The ThunderClan leader looked over to the elders and nodded at them, “they will then inform me at sunhigh on the day of the gathering whether they believe you’ve earned the right to go. Also,” he lashed his tail, “no more forays outside our territory unless absolutely necessary. I’ve spoken,” he finished, glancing over to his deputy, who didn’t seem quite pleased with the verdict, but dipped his head in acknowledgement.

Now dismissed, Ravenpaw slunk over to Crowpaw.

“I hope they let you go,” he meowed, looking over at the old tom and she-cat, “I don’t know if I want to go to the gathering without you.”

“Don’t be silly,” Ravenpaw pressed her nose into her brother’s shoulder, “if I can’t go, it means you’ll be going for the both of us.” Crowpaw still looked glum at the idea.

“Ravenpaw!” the apprentice heard the croaking voice of Snakefang, the brown tabby getting to his paws. “You heard Bravestar, I need help with some particularly tatted patches of fur.”

“Good luck,” Crowpaw muttered, and Ravenpaw sighed before trotting over to help the elder.


	4. First Gathering

Ravenpaw worked her tail off for the next several days so that by the day of the gathering her paws were sore and her pelt was unkempt. She spent so much time hunting and working that Snakefang and Poppylark barely had to lift a claw. Nests were perfectly made, bellies were full, and Ravenpaw even found she’d memorized a pawful of herbs and remedies needed for the elders’ most common ailments.

So now, as her reward, Ravenpaw found herself crossing over a log bridge to an island in the lake, on her way to her first Gathering! After a refreshing afternoon nap, Crowpaw had helped her groom herself so she would be presentable. She wondered what the other Clans were like. Sure, she’d heard stories about them, but it wasn’t the same as meeting them.

Hopping down off the log, Ravenpaw found her scent glands flooded with new and unusual smells of cats. Beside her, Crowpaw was also trying to discern scents. One of them was a little familiar.

“WindClan!” Crowpaw whispered. Ravenpaw nodded, agreeing. She vaguely recognized the scent of their neighbouring Clan as she’d sometimes smelled when the wind carried their scent over the river. “But I’m not sure what the other scent is.”

“Probably RiverClan,” Ravenpaw murmured. “If it was ShadowClan, we’d also recognize it, right?”

“That’s correct,” Patchsplash walked up behind the apprentices. “Now, do you want to actually go _meet_ the other Clans, or do you want to just talk about them?” His golden eyes sparkled with amusement.

Crowpaw and Ravenpaw scampered quickly toward the Gathering site, following Bravestar, Dusktail, and Poppylark.

“Oh, wow!” Crowpaw gasped, and Ravenpaw echoed his sentiment. More cats were mingling in the clearing under a large tree than she’d ever seen together in her life. She watched as her father made his way toward a pale brown tabby and a gorgeous silver tabby. Poppylark veered off to the side to speak with some other older-looking cats, an orange tabby, a solid blue, and a tortoiseshell-and-white. Dusktail and Patchsplash went to a small group of warriors, meowing greetings and giving welcoming head bumps.

Ravenpaw anxiously wondered what to do next when she saw a loose circle of warriors and younger cats more toward the center of the clearing. She touched Crowpaw’s back with her tail and gestured to the area. “Look!” she hissed excitedly. At the center of the cats two apprentices circled each other, and then attacked the other in a mock battle.

“Be careful, Nettlepaw, WindClan cats are wily and quick!” A calico she-cat with stunning green eyes was coaching one of the apprentices. A dark brown tabby flicked her ear towards the warrior in acknowledgement.

“Just because your opponent knows you’re quick doesn’t mean you stop being quick!” A red-and-white tom was up on his paws, watching the battle carefully. The diluted tortoiseshell in the circle suddenly jumped up and started bobbing and weaving, never settling down for a second. The RiverClan apprentice, Nettlepaw, watched her opponent carefully, and when the tortoiseshell struck, Nettlepaw threw her weight forward to intercept. She was bulkier than the wiry she-cat and managed to pin the little thing down.

“Okay, we’re done!” a new warrior announced, the brown normally on a tortoiseshell pelt coloured a much more vibrant red colour. “Good job, both of you.” Nettlepaw beamed at the praise, but the other apprentice looked a little uncertain.

“You did very well,” the red-and-white tom approached her and gave her an encouraging lick between her ears. “Nettlepaw has had a lot more training than you.”

“Yeah, Dawnpaw!” a pale tabby apprentice rubbed his pelt against hers. “You did better than I could have, that’s for sure!”

“Thanks, Scrubpaw,” Dawnpaw murmured, brightening up.

“Let’s go introduce ourselves,” Crowpaw meowed, jumping forward. Ravenpaw followed quickly.

“Oh, hello there,” The red-spotted tortoiseshell greeted them. She sniffed quickly. “Are you ThunderClan’s newest apprentices? I knew that Bravestar’s kits were to be apprenticed soon.”

“That’s us!” Ravenpaw responded proudly. “I’m Ravenpaw, and this is my brother Crowpaw.” The black tom meowed a hello.

“My name is Cherryspots, RiverClan’s deputy,” the tortoiseshell introduced herself. She waved her tail at the calico she-cat and the RiverClan apprentice. “This is Clovereyes, and her apprentice Nettlepaw.”

“Hi!” Nettlepaw chirped, surging forward to greet Crowpaw and Ravenpaw with quick touches of her nose to theirs. Ravenpaw blinked at her overwhelming friendliness.

“I’m Redspots, of WindClan,” the red-and-white tom came forward. “This is my apprentice, Dawnpaw.” He then flicked his tail toward the other apprentice and a pale grey tabby spectator. “Her brother Scrubpaw and his mentor, Spottedbelly.” He looked around with a frown. “Where’s Sunpaw?”

“He’s with Flowerpaw,” Dawnpaw stated between licks of her fur, trying to make herself look presentable after her tussle.

The warriors broke off away from the group, leaving the apprentices to speak amongst themselves.

“Hey, Nettlepaw,” Ravenpaw addressed the RiverClan apprentice, “is it true RiverClan eats frogs?”

“Ravenpaw!” Crowpaw hissed, his eyes wide.

Nettlepaw wrinkled her nose. “Ew, no, who told you that?”

“One of ThunderClan’s elders,” Ravenpaw responded pointedly. She refused to show her embarrassment and vowed not to take Snakefang’s words at face-value anymore.

“Why would anyone eat _frogs_?” Dawnpaw meowed, her face twisted as if presented with one at that moment.

“I’d eat a frog,” Scrubpaw stated, itching one ear with a hind paw.

Dawnpaw jumped to her paws. “No, you wouldn’t!”

“I would.”

“Mouse-brain!” Dawnpaw tackled Scrubpaw, and the two apprentices began a scuffle.

Ravenpaw backed away as a couple warriors came over to investigate the commotion. She wanted to see more cats! She was just padding toward the group Patchsplash was talking with when a new scent flowed into her nose.

_ShadowClan!_

A small swarm of new cats streamed into the clearing, carrying with them a scent that was slightly familiar to Ravenpaw due to their shared border. The apprentice jumped back as two toms charged straight past her, both large and grey, and headed toward the gathered leaders.

_Rude,_ Ravenpaw sniffed, giving her chest a few quick licks, the small white splotch present there getting pressed flat. Her ears swiveled to pick up a nearby conversation.

“Are we the last to arrive?” a tortoiseshell-and-white she-cat meowed toward a group of cats.

“Yep, everyone else is here,” a white tom with a dark tabby tail yawned.

The tortoiseshell looked around, and Ravenpaw saw that her right eye was scratched with a white line down the center, and a deep scar was present above and below the eye on her face. “Finchfeather,” she addressed a plain tabby she-cat with amber eyes, “where’s Berryblue?”

“He’s at camp,” Finchfeather responded simply, “Daisydawn will be kitting at any time, so we wanted someone to stay behind in case it happens during the gathering.”

The scarred tortoiseshell was nodding. “And Frostwhisker?”

The group, which Ravenpaw now realized must be medicine cats, exchanged glances.

“You, ThunderClan,” Ravenpaw found herself being addressed by the tortoiseshell. Her good eye was boring into her, a piercing blue. The apprentice padded forward. “Where is Frostwhisker? Alright, I hope.”

“Oh, yes, he’s...” Ravenpaw meowed, dropping her gaze and hesitated for a moment. She didn’t want to let the other Clans know what bad shape Frostwhisker was in, not since the death of Minnowpelt and a lot of the rest of their Clan. She raised her chin. “He’s taking care of one of our elders.”

“Snakefang?” the white tom with the dark tail guessed. Clearly, he had seen that Poppylark was here. “I hope it isn’t too serious.”

“N-no, he’ll be fine,” Ravenpaw stammered. “Just needed some extra care tonight, is all,” she shuffled her paws, inwardly cursing her terrible lying.

The tortoiseshell she-cat narrowed her icy gaze for a long moment, then nodded. “You must be one of ThunderClan’s new apprentices, Bravestar’s get if I remember correctly.”

“Uh,” Ravenpaw found this she-cat rather intimidating, from the way she spoke and held herself. She was confident and didn’t take nonsense, much like her own medicine cat.

“Has he taken a new apprentice, then, Frostwhisker? He isn’t getting any younger,” the she-cat stated.

“No, he hasn’t,” Ravenpaw mewed.

“Why not?” she cast a critical glance over Ravenpaw.

“Halfsight, stop interrogating this poor apprentice,” the mostly white tom meowed, standing. “You know how particular Frostwhisker is.” Two young cats sat near him; their eyes wide.

The fur on Ravenpaw’s spine prickled. Was this tom implying that she and her brother weren’t _good enough_ to be medicine cats, in Frostwhisker’s eyes?

“I don’t think Frostwhisker has the time to be particular, Sedgetail,” Halfsight lashed her tail before sitting neatly.

“Halfsight,” Finchfeather hissed quietly.

Ravenpaw suddenly felt a pit in her belly. What _would_ happen if Frostwhisker didn’t train a new apprentice before he died? He likely wouldn’t take Stagkit, the young tom was clearly set on the warrior’s life. Pinekit maybe? But that was moons away, if ever. ThunderClan might be facing a future with no medicine cat!

She was suddenly brought out of her spiral but the light touch of a tail on her shoulders. She jerked her head to the side to see a handsome young tom standing next to her, looking at her with pale green eyes.

“Hi, I’m Sunpaw,” he meowed. His pelt was a silky yellow-and-white.

“Uh, Ravenpaw,” she responded, suddenly shy.

Sunpaw twitched his whiskers, then motioned to the young she-cat sitting next to the white tom. “That’s my sister, Flowerpaw. She’s Sedgetail’s apprentice.” The young tom seemed proud to say that.

The medicine cats were now talking quietly amongst themselves, leaving Sunpaw and Ravenpaw to their own conversation.

“Have you met my littermates, Dawnpaw and Scrubpaw?” he flicked his tail over toward where the rest of the apprentices were gathered.

“Oh, yes, Crowpaw and I watched Dawnpaw fight the RiverClan apprentice, Nettlepaw.” Ravenpaw informed him.

“Oh,” Sunpaw twitched his whiskers again. “How’d she do?”

“Uhh,” Ravenpaw hesitated, “she lost?”

Sunpaw let out a _mrrow_ of laughter. “Ah well, I’m sure she’ll do better next time.”

A yowl caused both apprentices to look toward the giant oak, where four cats were now sitting on its thick branches. Based on what her Clanmates had told her, Ravenpaw was pretty sure she could guess each leader.

Bravestar of ThunderClan was obvious, but Ravenpaw never before realized how small he was compared to other cats; he’d always been so big to her. The black and white tom was clearly strong, and sturdy, but he was visibly shorter than each other leader. Next to him sat a thin, pale brown tabby she-cat, Heatherstar of WindClan. Her slender build hinted at the speed her Clan was famous for. Across the trunk on another branch was the beautiful grey tabby she-cat, her blue eyes calculating. Silverstar, of RiverClan, certainly, if stories were any indication. That left a large grey tom, next to her. Ravenpaw realized that he was one of the toms that nearly bowled her over when ShadowClan first arrived. Ashstar, by reason of deduction.

At the base of the tree sat the Clan’s deputies. Dusktail, of her own Clan, next to Cherryspots, the she-cat she’d met earlier. A grey tom, the other cat who nearly ran into Ravenpaw, who looked remarkably like Ashstar, but his pelt was a lighter shade except for his paws. Flintfoot, ShadowClan’s deputy and Ashstar’s brother if she remembered correctly. His narrowed amber eyes exactly matched his leader’s. Lastly was a brown tabby tom, slender like Heatherstar. Recently appointed in the past couple moons, Ravenpaw seemed to recall his name was Moorstalker. Her whiskers twitched as she realized his pale green eyes was the exact same shade as Sunpaw’s and his littermate’s.

“Prey runs well in ShadowClan!” Ashstar announced, standing tall, gazing down at the assembled cats. “We have many healthy kits, with more on the way, an astounding resurgence after this past bitter leaf-bare.” The struggles of each Clan this past season were too harsh for any Clan to deny that they’d been impacted, but certainly they could boast a powerful recovery. “We also celebrate a new warrior, welcome Badgernose!” The assembled cats cheered for the cat, and Ravenpaw saw a bashful, but large, black tom with white spots dip his head in acknowledgement.

Ashstar stepped back as Silverstar came forward next.

“The river is bountiful, and provides well for our growing Clan,” she mewed loud and clear. “I regret to announce the death of one of our elders, Laketail.” At this announcement there was a low murmur among the assembled cats. It was definitely sad to lose a cat just as the season started to bring the hope of a brighter future.

“Laketail was Silverstar’s father,” Sunpaw whispered to her. Ravenpaw’s heart clenched. She knew was it was like to lose a parent.

“He now walks strong and proud with StarClan.” Silverstar concluded, stepping back. Heatherstar and Bravestar briefly exchanged a glance, the black tom gesturing ahead. Heatherstar stood forward.

“Our Clan is strong with the arrival of greenleaf,” she stated, “our prey runs well, and our apprentices learn quickly.” She stepped back, giving Bravestar the chance to speak. Her lack of announcing apprentices must mean that Sunpaw and his littermates were at least a moon older than her and Crowpaw.

“The forest provides well for ThunderClan,” Bravestar’s meow was strong. “We have two new apprentices, and already they’ve done us proud.” Ravenpaw knew his words were boastful but couldn’t help feeling good about them anyway.

With that, the Gathering concluded, and the cats began to gather in groups to head back to their territories.

“How’d you like it?” Bravestar asked, padding up to his kits.

“Great!” Crowpaw beamed. “The other apprentices are very friendly!”

“I met the other medicine cats,” Ravenpaw put in.

Bravestar nodded. “Just remember,” he told them gently, “you might have to meet any of these cats some day on the battlefield, and the full moon truce only happens on nights like tonight.”

Ravenpaw’s tail drooped. She’d forgotten that some day she might have to fight any of the cats she met tonight. She glanced over at where the WindClan cats were gathering. She saw Sunpaw standing with Flowerpaw, the medicine cat apprentice. He glanced around and caught her eye, then waved his tail at her in goodbye. Ravenpaw strangled a purr and waved her tail back.

Bravestar gathered up his Clan and led the way across the log bridge, back toward home.


	5. Duty and Happiness

“Oof!” Ravenpaw gasped for breath as she was shoved to the ground by Stagpaw, who pulled back, a gloating expression on his face.

“Come _on_ Ravenpaw, you’ve been training a whole moon longer than me and I still beat you!” he meowed, strutting.

“Humility, Stagpaw,” Bravestar scolded from the edge of the mossy clearing. Stagpaw put his ears back and shrank his posture. “Each cat has their strengths and weaknesses, and it’s nothing to make fun of.”

“Yeah,” Crowpaw snorted quietly to Ravenpaw, “like I don’t think you’ve _ever_ come back from hunting with less than three pieces of fresh-kill.” While Stagpaw did display a natural fighting instinct, and was muscular and well-built, Crowpaw had a point that he was a less-than-stellar hunter thus far.

“Crowpaw,” their father’s meow made the apprentice startle, “get in position with Stagpaw, give Ravenpaw a breather.”

“Yes, Bravestar!” Crowpaw chirped, scrambling to his paws. He approached Stagpaw and took up a battle-ready stance. Ravenpaw scurried out of the way and turned to watch the other apprentices.

They circled each other, eyes narrowed, tails lashing. Suddenly Crowpaw darted forward, aiming to swipe Stagpaw’s front legs out from under him. Stagpaw reared up just in time and threw himself forward, trying to use his weight against the slighter cat. But Crowpaw was quick and pelted sideways out of the way. Crowpaw continued his harries until Stagpaw became tired, and finally the black-furred apprentice tripped the tabby, causing him to crash onto his side. Crowpaw leaped onto the other apprentice, shoving his muzzle into his neck to simulate a bite. Stagpaw summoned a last bit of energy and got his hind legs under Crowpaw’s belly, shoving hard and throwing the other apprentice off of him. Crowpaw flew through the air toward a nearby tree and Ravenpaw gasped, anticipating her brother’s body thrown against its trunk. However, Crowpaw’s tail spun rapidly and he twisted his body so that his paws hit the tree first. His muscles bunched and he launched himself from the tree and straight back toward Stagpaw, the two apprentices colliding and tumbling together.

“Alright, that’s enough for now,” Bravestar called, leaping forward. The apprentices staggered to their feet, gasping for breath. Ravenpaw leaped forward, eyes shining.

“Crowpaw, that was incredible!” She purred, brushing her pelt against his. “Where did that come from?”

“I’m used to battling Dusktail,” Crowpaw explained, licking his chest fur, “I figured fighting Stagpaw would be like fighting him, so,” he shrugged.

“Both of you did very well,” Bravestar commented. “Crowpaw, you know how to use speed against an opponent who is larger and stronger than you. And Stagpaw,” he addressed his own apprentice, “you did very well to stay on your paws for so long and stand up to Crowpaw’s repeated attacks. Learn from this and understand how to adapt to each foe you may fight. Let’s head back to camp.”

“Um, Bravestar?” Ravenpaw met her father’s yellow eyes. “Can I hunt before heading back? I’m not very tired yet.”

Bravestar deliberated for a moment. “Good idea, Ravenpaw. See that you at least catch something fresh for the elders before coming back.”

Ravenpaw purred, her tail standing straight. “Thanks, Bravestar!” and with that, she bounded away. She took off due south toward the lake, quickly tracking and taking down a plump newleaf squirrel. She continued on, enjoying the warm afternoon breeze when the sound of the nearby river tickled her ears, as well as the faint sound of cats meowing. Ravenpaw immediately slunk down, her belly fur brushing the ground. She scented the air, the breeze carrying the faint scent of Dusktail and Wrenheart. Sneaking forward, Ravenpaw sighted the pair nearby. Dusktail’s posture was poor, he looked upset, while Wrenheart’s tail lashed and her pelt bristled in irritation. The apprentice tilted her ears to try and catch their conversation.

“Didn’t your elders ever teach you that eavesdropping is rude?” came a raspy meow from behind her.

Ravenpaw gasped and leaped into the air, pelt fluffed in shock. Behind her with an unreadable expression was Frostwhisker, a small pile of herbs next to his paws. How did he sneak up on her?

“I, er,” she stammered, trying to find an excuse, but Frostwhisker’s face changed to an expression that told her he wouldn’t accept anything she would say.

A louder meow sounded from behind her, and Ravenpaw turned to see Wrenheart stalking off into the forest, Dusktail pausing for a moment before following her slowly.

“Were they fighting?” Ravenpaw wondered aloud, whiskers twitching.

“Do you actually want to know?” Frostwhisker meowed, picking up his leaf bundle. Ravenpaw looked at him, incredulous. The medicine cat shrugged. “Some cats would say you’re too young, but I think that’s disingenuous to young cats.” He began to slowly walk up along the river.

Ravenpaw followed, her curiosity piquing. “I… won’t tell anyone you told me?” she ventured. Frostwhisker then began to make a strange noise, like he was coughing, but Ravenpaw quickly realized he was wheezing with laughter.

“I missed having apprentices around,” he wheezed through the herbs in his mouth. He came to a stop and sat down, setting the herbs on the ground again. Frostwhisker studied her with intense gold eyes. “ThunderClan is the weakest its been in living memory,” he stated plainly, “we are running at a minimum of what we should be to survive. Wrenheart believes she should have more kits soon, so as to make the Clan grow stronger. Dusktail is hesitant, because Wrenheart found her last litter difficult and they lost two kits, which was hard on them as well.”

Ravenpaw pondered this. “If that’s what Wrenheart wants,” she said slowly, “and it’s for the good of the Clan, then Dusktail should respect that, right?”

Frostwhisker looked at her, blinking slowly. “On the other paw, it’s not wrong for Dusktail to not want his mate to suffer. Tell me this, Ravenpaw, how far do you agree with Wrenheart?”

Ravenpaw flipped an ear. “What do you mean?”

“When you make warrior, will you trot yourself off to the nursery and have kits, for the good of ThunderClan?”

Ravenpaw blinked, shocked. She’d never thought of that before. In the Clan, there were only three she-cats that could contribute kits to ThunderClan; Wrenheart, Willownose, and herself. Poppylark was far too old. Plus, if she _wanted_ to have kits, who would even be the father? Bravestar and Crowpaw were her kin; Snakefang far too old; Patchsplash is her mentor; Dusktail was already mates with Wrenheart; Frostwhisker was a medicine cat. She couldn’t help wrinkling her nose at realizing that Stagpaw was the only option she could see at the moment. _Yuck, no_. She could barely stand his arrogance as a denmate, let alone anything more.

“You see where the conundrum lies,” Frostwhisker purred lightly. “There is no right answer, Ravenpaw, and thus there lies some problems with our way of life.”

Ravenpaw gasped. Was she hearing this right, Frostwhisker disrespecting Clan life and the warrior code?

Frostwhisker rolled his eyes and picked his herbs up once more. “Much of the Code is good and noble,” he said, “but sometimes cats put their duties too far ahead of their personal needs and desires. At least in my opinion.”

Ravenpaw numbly followed the medicine cat, her mind reeling. She felt angry that Frostwhisker had blatantly criticized their way of life, but also realizing that the tom had many moon experience in life over her, and that he likely knew lots of things that she didn’t. Was there wisdom in his words, or were they simply the dark mutterings of an old cat who should be retired by now?

She was broken from her thoughts by a gruff instruction from Frostwhisker. “Collect these,” he grunted, gesturing to a bush with little white flowers. Ravenpaw jumped forward to obey him.

“What are they for?” she asked, nipping some of the soft leaves from the sharp-smelling plant. She did this poorly for the first couple, then managed to collect a decent amount of intact leaves.

“Feverfew,” the white and tabby spotted tom replied. “It has many uses, but mostly I need to replenish any and all of my herbs that treat body aches thanks to Snakefang doing more than he should.”

Ravenpaw bristled slightly. “Snakefang doesn’t _need_ to do those things anymore, I can hunt enough for the elders and everyone else now.”

Frostwhisker ignored her annoyance and began to walk slowly and stiffly back in the direction of camp. “No, he doesn’t, but he still used up all my supply over leaf-bare.”

“Oh,” Ravenpaw meowed, muffled by the herbs she was carrying. They walked in silence for a while, the she-cat wondering if she should mention something that had been nagging at her mind since the Gathering. “Frostwhisker,” she ventured, and the tom turned slightly to look at her, but continued to pad on, “why didn’t you choose myself or Crowpaw as your apprentice?”

Frostwhisker stopped, once again placing his herb bundle down. Ravenpaw followed suit.

“Why are you asking?”

Ravenpaw hesitated. “At the Gathering, Halfsight and Sedgetail were talking about you and taking an apprentice, and, well…” she didn’t really want to finish her sentence.

Frostwhisker snorted. “They think I’m so old I’ll drop dead any moment, huh?” he growled the words. “They don’t need to worry; the living Clans won’t be done with me for a while yet.”

“Okay, but, about me and Crowpaw...?”

The old tom cast an eye over the young she-cat. “I could tell you that the stars didn’t intend the medicine cat path for you or your brother, or that our warrior ancestors had other plans or whatever,” he waved his paw in the air, “but really I could simply tell that you would not be your happiest in my role, that you will find life more fulfilling as a warrior.” He chuckled. “Think of me as the Dusktail to your Wrenheart in this scenario.” With that, he picked his herbs up once again continued on to camp.

Ravenpaw followed, thinking. Was Frostwhisker right? Was personal happiness better than the survival of the Clan? She wasn’t sure, but she also knew that the old tomcat’s mind wouldn’t be changed.


	6. Blaze Ahead

Ravenpaw moved slowly through the forest, pausing to taste the air and examine her surroundings. It wasn’t long before she found a dewy bunch of ferns, all pressed and partially broken. A few white hairs decorated the fronds. She apprentice narrowed her eyes, making a realization.

_Patchsplash rolled in ferns to disguise his scent,_ she thought grumpily. Of _course_ the senior warrior would make tracking practice that much harder. Well, at least she was being taught new ways to hide at the same time. Ravenpaw crouched and squinted at the ground. After a moment of searching she found the neat imprint of a paw headed away from the ferns.

The black-furred apprentice proceeded to track her mentor using sight, and clues of disturbed nature. An uprooted patch of moss, a freshly broken branch, a stray hair. Eventually, the trail ran cold and Ravenpaw didn’t know where to go. She sat, frustrated.

Looking around, she finally noticed what looked like fresh claw marks on the oak tree beside her. She stood and sniffed them, then peered into the branches above.

“Ah, you finally found me,” Patchsplash’s purring voice met Ravenpaw’s ears. The mostly white tom was crouched on a branch a few fox-lengths above the ground, his tail hanging down and twitching slightly.

“Well, you made it pretty hard,” Ravenpaw sniffed, licking her paw and running it over an ear.

“Of course,” replied the warrior. “The training wouldn’t be worth it if it were easy.” He flicked his tail at her, gesturing. “Join me up here.”

Ravenpaw scrabbled up the tree, balancing on a branch near Patchsplash. She craned her neck to see how much further the tree went.

“Don’t forget to look up when in a forest,” the tom reminded his apprentice gently, “trees can harbor many dangerous foes.”

“Like what?” Ravenpaw enquired. Foxes and badgers didn’t climb trees, so far as she knew.

“Well enemy cats, for one,” Patchsplash replied, “as well as dangerous birds, like owls and hawks sometimes. While they typically don’t go for fully grown cats, you never know how hungry they might be.”

Ravenpaw’s fur pricked along her spine and she glanced upward, now nervous that a huge owl would suddenly descend upon her and take her away. Patchsplash seemed to notice this and _mrrow_ ed in amusement.

“If you feel up to it, climb higher and look around. This tree’s tall enough you can see quite a bit,” her mentor offered, stretched, and began to expertly move up the tree. Ravenpaw’s eyes lit up with excitement as she scrabbled up after the tom.

Ravenpaw reached a branch just below Patchsplash, who motioned with his tail to a branch beside him. The apprentice clambered up, the branch bending under her weight if she moved too far from the tree’s trunk. After getting confidence in her sense of balance, Ravenpaw looked out and gasped.

A beautiful lush, green landscape spread out before her. The tops of several shorter trees waved gently in the breeze, and the sun beaming down on the leaves made them almost glow. Ravenpaw could just see the glitter of the lake in the distance. She closed her yellow eyes and drank in the scents, crisp and clear while away from the moist, decaying scents of the forest floor. The apprentice and her mentor enjoyed the calm for a while.

“Patchsplash?” Ravenpaw asked hesitantly.

“Yes?”

“Will you have kits with Willownose?” the question came out in a rush.

Patchplash blinked at her, startled. “What makes you ask that?” he finally managed.

Ravenpaw inhaled. “I came across Dusktail and Wrenheart having an argument in the woods and Frostwhisker told me they were talking about whether to have more kits because ThunderClan needs kits but Dusktail is scared that Wrenheart will be hurt if they do that and Willownose’s mate died over leaf-bare and so the only toms left for her are you and Bravestar but I think Bravestar still misses Nightbriar which means if Willownose wants more kits it has to be with you.”

Patchsplash stared at her, then finally blinked and shook his head. “That’s not something you need to worry about, young one.” Ravenpaw opened her mouth to protest but he silenced her with a flick of his tail. “Willownose and I will not be having kits together. Your father still mourns for your mother, the same way Willownose mourns her mate and I mourn mine.”

Ravenpaw was quiet. “I didn’t know you had a mate,” she meowed quietly. She felt the gentle touch of Patchsplash’s tail on her shoulders.

“It’s okay, you were very young when he died and didn’t know him,” the elder cat reassured her.

Ravenpaw looked at him with big eyes. “Maybe you could tell me about him sometime?”

Patchsplash purred. “I’d love to.” They were silent for a moment. “You don’t need to worry so much about ThunderClan’s future, Ravenpaw. Focus for now on what you want and what makes you happy,” he urged.

Ravenpaw snorted lightly. “You sound like Frostwhisker.”

Patchsplash chuckled. “That makes sense, I suppose, he _is_ my brother.”

Ravenpaw looked at him, startled. “I didn’t know that, either. I thought Frostwhisker was much older than you.”

“Oh, he is, we were born many seasons apart,” Patchsplash stated, “but nevertheless, he cared for me as if we were littermates.” Ravenpaw purred at this. She loved having her brother and was glad that Frostwhisker and Patchsplash had each other after everything that had happened. They sat in silent a while longer, when suddenly a new scent wafted over Ravenpaw. It smelled bitter and acrid, like nothing she’d smelled before.

“What’s that?”

Patchsplash opened his mouth and focused. After a long moment he opened his eyes, confused. “Smoke.” He stated, instinctively glancing in the direction of where twolegs come during greenleaf. Ravenpaw scanned the horizon, spotting something in a different direction. A trail of grey mist rose from somewhere in the forest. She notified Patchsplash, who glanced over, his pelt beginning to bristle.

“We need to head back to camp and warn everyone – the forest is wet and lush but you can never be too careful with a fire,” the older tom had a tone in his voice that Ravenpaw had never heard, a seriousness that made her heart stutter with anxiety. The two cats scrambled down from the oak, leaping a fair distance to the forest floor. Luckily it was thick and cushy, absorbing a lot of the impact of their jump.

As the cats turned toward ThunderClan’s camp, a sudden realization washed over Ravenpaw. “Patchsplash!” her urgent meow made the warrior stop and look at her. “That’s where the twoleg den with the kittypet is! What if she’s in danger?” Without waiting, the black-furred she-cat dashed away, running as fast as she could through the forest. She heard Patchsplash calling after her, but she had a one-track mind to check on the creamy she-cat who lived in the wooden twoleg den.

As she got closer to the den, the acrid tang of the smoke became stronger, and soon she could see the orange glow of a massive fire. Ravenpaw had never seen fire before, but every fibre of her body was struck with fear and awe, and she felt an intense desire to run away. She forged on, however, and her ears soon picked up the sound of screaming birds. Ravenpaw hurled herself at the wooden fence that surrounded the twoleg den and scrabbled up to the top.

The chickens were in their isolated garden, squawking and screaming although the fire wasn’t consuming their own small nesting space. The twoleg den, however, was alight and crackled with flames. Dark smoke poured from openings in the den. Ravenpaw found herself frozen with fear, the heat of the flames gently touching her face. She was brought out of her stupor when she heard the pitiful, scared mewl of a kit. She looked down and to the left to see a mass of tiny, pale-furred kits huddled together, pressed against the fence and a smooth, round object that a plant was growing out of. Ravenpaw jumped down and padded over to them.

“Where is your mother?” she asked gently. The kits looked over at her, startled, their blue eyes wide with fear. They were maybe a moon old. They pressed away from Ravenpaw. Some of the kits had grey smudges on their bodies, and one had an angry red welt on its muzzle.

The one with the welt stood and pushed ahead of his littermates. “She went back,” in informed her in his tiny voice.

Ravenpaw stared at him, bewildered. “Why?”

“More of us,” he stated, turning to lick one of his siblings on their ear.

Ravenpaw quickly counted the kits huddled together. _Five_. Five kits!? And their mother went back for another one! Did kittypets always have such huge litters? Ravenpaw didn’t know how a queen could care for so many kits. Their sudden frantic mewling caused the she-cat to look toward the twoleg den.

The sleek and gorgeous she-cat Ravenpaw remembered was gone, and replaced with a frazzled, dirty queen with desperation in her sky-coloured eyes. A scrap of fur dangled from her jaws as she limped from the flaming den and toward her kits. There was a brief moment of anger in her eyes as she spotted Ravenpaw, but the look quickly changed as she set her kit down. It was wheezing and coughing.

“Please watch them,” she choked, then turned back toward the den.

“Wait!” Ravenpaw called futilely. The sound of scrabbling claws reached her ears and Patchsplash landed beside her.

“Ravenpaw!” he snapped angrily, then took in the scene. “What’s going on?”

“She’s been rescuing her kits from the fire,” Ravenpaw explained, staring at where the she-cat went in horror. She suddenly heard the rasping sound of a tongue on fur and looked to see that Patchsplash was roughly licking the wheezing kit. As he did so, the kit’s breathing eased slightly, but there was still a rough note to its breathing.

The group of cats waited with bated breath, and in the distance Ravenpaw heard a strange wailing. The fur on her spine prickled. “What’s that?” she hissed quietly.

Patchsplash looked just as disturbed. “I don’t know.”

Finally, a small shape emerged from the den, and Ravenpaw saw the she-cat come stumbling out, carrying another small bundle of fur. She barely touched the grass with her paws when she suddenly collapsed. Ravenpaw jumped forward, the heat of the blaze searing her skin from being this close. The kittypet was gasping and wheezing, and angry welts showed on her lithe body. Her eyes streamed from being stung with smoke. She looked desperately at Ravenpaw.

“Please, protect them,” she gasped, then her body shuddered, and her head dropped, her body going still. Ravenpaw stared in shock. She’d been around death, unfortunately, but had been sheltered from it, away in the nursery, and had never actually seen a cat die up close. A pitiful mew drew her attention away from the she-cat’s body. Her kit wasn’t looking good; a large amount of fur on its back leg had burned away to be replaced by angry, red flesh, and its tail was shiny with blood too. Ravenpaw gently picked it up the way she’d seen other cats do it and carried the bundle over to Patchsplash and the rest of the litter.

“She’s dead,” she said mournfully, gently placing the kit down. She looked at Patchsplash, a fierceness in her eyes. “She wanted me to protect them, we should bring them back to ThunderClan!”

Patchsplash narrowed his eyes. “I don’t know if we can care for so many kits. Besides, their twolegs should care for them.”

Ravenpaw lashed her tail. “Their twolegs could be dead too,” she hissed quietly. “No warrior can neglect a kit in pain or in danger!”

Patchsplash hesitated, then looked down at the scared, mewling kits. His ears twitched as the strange wailing got louder. “Fine, then lets hurry.” He bent to pick up the wheezing kit.

“Is mother coming?” the kit with the burned muzzle inquired, looking over to her body.

“No,” Ravenpaw said softly, “she’s gone to join StarClan.”

The kit’s whiskers twitched. “What’s StarClan?”

_Oh, mousedung!_ Of course this kittypet kit wouldn’t know what StarClan was! “It means, uh, it means that she lives among the stars now and her belly is always full and there’s always warm sunshine to lay in.”

The kit blinked at her, and after a long moment meowed “okay. I say goodbye now.” And he scampered off toward the body. Ravenpaw dashed after him to make sure he would be okay. The kit pushed his nose into his mother’s fur for a moment, ignoring the heat of the flames, and she heard him begin to whisper. “Goodbye mother, I’ll miss you.” Grief stabbed at Ravenpaw’s heart for this tiny kit and his littermates. The kit pulled back and looked at Ravenpaw. The strange wailing was very loud now, and lights began flashing on the trees. Ravenpaw’s tail puffed out and she grabbed the kit quickly. She darted toward the fence, where Patchsplash was landing to grab another bundle. Ravenpaw hurtled over the fence, deposited her kit, and went back for another. Soon her and Patchsplash had them all and were herding them away from the blazing twoleg den.

The tiny kits stumbled along on tiny legs, moving painfully slowly through the forest. Patchsplash was carrying the kit who had rough breathing, and Ravenpaw carried the badly burned one. After a short while Patchsplash stopped and gently lay his kit on some leaves.

“This is too slow, these two need to get to Frostwhisker as soon as possible. Ravenpaw, put that one on my back, I’ll run ahead and send help.” The white-and-tabby tom addressed the kit in Ravenpaw’s jaws. “I need you to hold on to me as tight as you can, okay?”

“Okay,” the burned kit croaked, his voice thick with pain. Ravenpaw placed him on the tom’s back, and he clung on tightly. Patchsplash grunted as the kit’s tiny claws dug into his pelt. He picked the other kit back up and raced off into the forest.

Ravenpaw slowly led the rest of the kits through the forest, obsessively checking on them and putting them back in a group when one went to pounce on a leaf, Patchsplash’s warning about dangerous birds fresh on her mind. Before long, their tiny mews were piercing the air with complaints.

“I’m tired!”

“I’m hungry.”

“Where’s mother?”

“You’ll be safe and comfortable soon, kits,” Ravenpaw tried to reassure them, eyes glancing up to check for hawks and owls. Her ears swiveled forward when she heard the sound of many approaching paws. From the bushes emerged Patchsplash, Dusktail, Wrenheart, and Bravestar. The kits froze or stumbled back in surprise, their tiny tails puffing up. “It’s okay, they’re friends!” Ravenpaw attempted to soothe them.

“Come, little ones,” Wrenheart slowly came forward and crouched down, “let me see you.” The kits appeared to be soothed by her tone and slowly approached her. Dusktail also moved forward to inspect the kits. Bravestar motioned to Ravenpaw with his tail.

“We’ll discuss this later,” he meowed solemnly, and Ravenpaw knew that even if she provided kits for the Clan, she still ignored her mentor’s orders and put herself in danger. Bravestar turned to the warriors he brought with him. “Everyone, pick up a kit and bring them back to camp.” The cats obeyed, and everyone picked up a tiny bundle and began to swiftly run toward home.

They emerged into the camp to see nearly every Clan member there and waiting. Snakefang and Poppylark lazily shared tongues outside their den but paused to watch the procession. Crowpaw was taking his final bites of a mouse, Stagpaw nearby pacing. Willownose sat watching Pinekit frolicking around. He stopped and stared at the warriors carrying kits into the clearing.

“Oh, there’s more!” Pinekit squeaked excitedly. “Finally, so many kits to play with!”

“Not now, Pinekit,” Willownose hushed him and moved him out of the way. Ravenpaw and the warriors placed their kits down, who all looked around in wonder with their wide blue eyes. After a moment Frostwhisker emerged from his den and padded up to Bravestar.

“I’ve treated them as best I can,” he told his leader pointedly, “they should make it, better or worse. The she-kit might always have trouble breathing, and the tom might lose part of his tail if it doesn’t start healing well. Willownose,” he turned to the queen, “I know you’ve just weaned Pinekit, but I have herbs that might help you make milk again for these kits if you’re willing.”

Willownose stood and raised her tail up high. “Of course.”

“Wait a moment,” Bravestar interrupted, “I haven’t decided if we’re taking in these kits yet.”

Frostwhisker snorted. “You know as well as I that you won’t toss these kits out to fend for themselves, kittypet born or not. Besides, maybe now our cats will stop worrying about our future so much.” The old tom let his gaze linger over Wrenheart, Dusktail, and Ravenpaw. He then turned his attention back to Willownose. “If the herbs don’t work, don’t worry. The kits are just old enough they should survive on well-chewed prey if need be.”

Willownose nodded. “Come along, I have a nice warm nest for you to curl up in,” she purred, using her tail to guide the kits to the nursery.

“Not tired!” one kit protested, yawning immediately after speaking. The non-injured kits were corralled into the nursery with Pinekit bouncing behind them.

“Patchsplash, Wrenheart, Stagpaw, with me,” Bravestar ordered, and the called cats assembled. “We will head back toward the fire to see whether it’s spread to the forest. Dusktail, Crowpaw,” he turned to his deputy and son, “each of you should head toward ShadowClan’s and WindClan’s borders to warn them in case the fire does continue.”

Dusktail dipped his head. “Crowpaw, head to WindClan, they’re more amiable if you have to cross on to their territory to find them. I’ll handle ShadowClan.” Crowpaw nodded enthusiastically and ran out of the camp into the oncoming dusk.

“Ravenpaw,” the apprentice turned toward her leader, “you will stay and guard camp. Then until further notice, you’ll help Willownose with anything she needs, and the only time you are allowed to leave camp is if she or the elders want warm fresh-kill. Do you understand?”

Ravenpaw lowered her head, her eyes locked on her paws. “Yes Bravestar,” she responded in a low voice. She didn’t think this was fair. Did it matter if she broke a rule a little, but everything turned out fine? Better, even? They had more kits now! More future warriors for their Clan! But no, everyone benefited, and she got punished for it.

She said none of this, knowing better. She wasn’t like Frostwhisker, a cat with age and authority who could say nearly anything he wanted and get away with it. She watched morosely as the rest of the cats left the camp, then she dragged her paws toward the apprentice den to get some sleep.


	7. A Bright Future

“Bye Ravenpaw, we’ll be sure to tell you all about the Gathering!” Stagpaw waved his striped tail as he left through the thorn tunnel. Crowpaw looked back with an anxious look on his face.

“I’m sure it won’t be too interesting,” he assured her hesitantly.

Ravenpaw shook her head. “It’s fine, I’m sure I can go to the next one.”

“Okay, see you later,” Crowpaw brushed his pelt against his sister’s, then ran after the rest of their Clanmates who were headed off for the night. The fire at the twoleg den didn’t end up threatening the Clans, fortunately, and the patrol who went to check on it informed the rest of the cats that the twolegs were throwing water at the flames, somehow, and quenched the fire.

Ravenpaw sighed, staring wistfully at the forest beyond the camp. She twitched her ears as she heard the thundering of tiny paws and suddenly a small impact hit her rump. She turned her yellow gaze to the cream-and-brown kit who ran into her.

“Sorry!” squeaked Slatekit, scrambling back to her feet. She immediately turned and tackled her brother, Sandkit. They went tumbling across the clearing, squealing with delight. After only a few days, the new kittypet kits were settling in well. Pinekit delighted in having kits nearer to his own age to play with, and so far, the large litter idolized him. Right now, the little brown tabby was teaching Aspenkit and Rosekit a hunting crouch, both she-kits watching with huge eyes. Stormkit, the tom with the small burn on his muzzle, sat next to Honeykit, the she-kit recently released from Frostwhisker’s den when her breathing had gotten better. She still sometimes seemed to have trouble catching her breath and couldn’t play rough games for too long. Willownose napped in the light of the setting sun, exhausted from looking after so many kits.

Ravenpaw decided to go check on the last kit and padded over to Frostwhisker’s den. She pushed her way past the bramble tendrils at the entrance and found the white and dark tabby tom sniffing at the injured kit’s back leg. The little tom had made it past the worst part of his injuries, but they still didn’t look very good. He ended up losing the end of his tail, with another portion of it bald from the burns. His left hind leg was badly injured, with his haunch and much of the rest of the leg red and furless with the injury. Other patches of fur were missing, with angry blisters bubbling his flesh. Regardless, the young cat aware and awake, and according to Frostwhisker was managing the pain very well.

The kit was slowly stretching his leg out, his face screwed up in discomfort. Frostwhisker watched intently, not noticing Ravenpaw enter.

“Alright, good, I’ll just apply another poultice and you can start staying in the nursery with your littermates,” the old cat grunted, turning and padding deeper into his den. The little tom kit sat and looked over at Ravenpaw.

“Hi Ravenpaw!” he chirped.

“Hi, uh-”

“Burnkit,” the little tom said proudly, puffing out his chest.

Ravenpaw stared. “Burnkit?”

“He named himself,” Frostwhisker muttered, emerging from his den with a folded leaf. He placed it down, opened it up, and began to gently spread some mushy herbs on Burnkit’s flank.

“It’s a good name,” Ravenpaw offered.

“I’m strong as a warrior!” the kit boasted. Ravenpaw saw Frostwhisker roll his eyes slightly.

Ravenpaw purred. “You’ll make a great one someday.” In spite of their kittypet birth, the kits were all as rambunctious and eager as any Clan-born kit.

“Now don’t play too hard, or you might hurt yourself further and need to come back to me for long term again.” Frostwhisker grunted to the kit. “But also, don’t hesitate to come back if you need anything, alright?”

Burnkit nodded. “Thanks, Frostwhisker!” he purred, rubbing his head on the medicine cat’s chest, then took off toward the main clearing. The old tom watched the kit go with deep affection. He and Ravenpaw stood in silence for a moment.

“You didn’t go to the Gathering again,” Ravenpaw stated. Frostwhisker turned his golden eyes to her.

“The kits need me,” he grunted, lashing his tail.

“The Clans will gossip.”

Frostwhisker snorted derisively. “I don’t care about gossip. Cats can say what they will, it changes nothing of the truth.”

“Have you been eating more?”

“Did Bravestar put you up to this?” the tom replied, glaring.

“No,” Ravenpaw blinked, then looked away, muttering, “not like he’d trust me to do anything.”

Frostwhisker’s ear twitched. “And why do you think that?”

“Because I keep getting in trouble!” Ravenpaw blurted out. “I do what I think is right, and even though things turn out okay I get punished!”

“You’re an apprentice,” Frostwhisker stated as he sat and curled his tail around his paws. “You need to show that you can listen to your superiors, since they have experience far beyond you. Additionally, you are Bravestar’s kit, and he doesn’t want to show any favoritism and let you get away with things.” Ravenpaw still sulked. “He’s never actually been mad with you.”

The young she-cat looked over at Frostwhisker. “He hasn’t?”

The medicine cat shook his head. “He disciplines you because it’s what the warrior code calls for, not because he is angry with you.” The tom’s eyes glinted. “You haven’t yet _seen_ your father angry.”

“I haven’t?”

Frostwhisker yawned. “It takes quite a bit to anger our leader, he’s dealt with a lot.” Ravenpaw began to ask _what_ he’d dealt with, but the old tom stopped her. “Ask him yourself, later, I’m tired. Go entertain the kits.”

Ravenpaw dipped her head and backed out of Frostwhisker’s den, unwilling to argue with him. Reaching the open camp, she looked around to find that all the kits were huddled around Poppylark, looking at her with fascinated expressions.

“Now, our leader wasn’t born with his name you know, and not just the last part,” the elderly silver tabby was saying. Ravenpaw hurried over and lay down behind the kits, tucking her paws under her body. She loved this story!

“When he was born, Bravestar was one of the littlest kits you’ve ever seen, even smaller than you!” Poppylark pointed her nose at the smallest of the kittypet kits, Honeykit. She squeaked in delight at being addressed by the elder. “He was named Smallkit, but while his body was small everything else about him was not. He was a fierce little kit, always getting into trouble and trying to challenge the apprentices to games.

“When made apprentice, he learned how to use his size to his advantage. He could chase down the fastest prey and unsteady the sturdiest warrior by getting under their paws! He was clever and proved wrong any cat who had anything negative to say about his size or his kin.

“One day, Bravestar was out with the dawn patrol; him, his mentor, and another warrior, when they were set on by a family of foxes! A mother, and her nearly grown kits, if I recall correctly. The patrol retreated up a tree, but not before one of the warriors got a nasty bite to their hind leg. The foxes seemed intent on waiting the patrol out, and they were trapped.

“Needing to go find help, Bravestar climbed partway down the tree, then threw himself over the foxes with a powerful leap! He landed, stumbling, and one of the foxes gave chase, gaining on him quickly. Bravestar suddenly turned and pelted _straight for the fox_!” The assembled kits gasped, and Ravenpaw purred.

“Bravestar threw himself under the fox at the last moment and clawed up its belly! Then when the fox spun to grab him, he raked his claws over its face, blinding it on one side! As the fox howled with pain, Bravestar raced back to camp as fast as a WindClan cat, quickly returning to the trapped cats with a group of warriors on his heels! He fought the foxes valiantly with his Clanmates, and drove them away, the patrol even killing one.” Poppylark winked. “Fox doesn’t taste very good.” The kits giggled.

“That day, Bravestar was praised for his courage and quick-thinking, and made a full warrior with the name Braveclaw. He’s been making ThunderClan proud ever since.” Immediately, the kits were clamoring and asking for more stories about Bravestar and other ThunderClan warriors. “No, no, I’m tired and need my rest,” Poppylark stood and stretched her old bones.

“I’m going to kill a fox like Bravestar did!” Slatekit announced, puffing out her chest.

“I’m going to save a patrol!” Aspenkit jumped to her paws and batted at her sister.

“Hey, Sandkit, you be a fox and I’ll be Bravestar!” Honeykit ordered, throwing herself under her brother’s belly and pushed him off the ground with her back paws. Sandkit squealed and landed heavily, then pounced on Honeykit and they began to wrestle.

“Okay, kits,” Willownose shook out her pelt and began to herd the kits together, “it’s very late, you can all play ‘Bravestar fighting foxes’ tomorrow.” The kits grumbled in complaint, slowly moving to the nursery. “Look, Burnkit can come and curl up with us now!” the grey tabby queen gave the injured tom kit a lick between the ears, then lifted her head and touched noses with Poppylark. “Thank you for the story, mother, I hope you have many more to entertain these wild pelts.” In spite of the complaint, her eyes shone with affection.

“Of course,” Poppylark purred, retreating into the elder’s den with Snakefang.

Ravenpaw looked around the now-empty clearing, the full moon bathing the area in pale, glowing light. The apprentice took up a seat in the center, to keep watch until her Clanmates returned home from the Gathering.

* * *

The next morning Ravenpaw set out on a hunt, released from her punishment after her father got back from the Gathering. Bravestar and Dusktail went out on dawn patrol, letting the rest of the Clan sleep the night off. Ravenpaw had asked to hunt so her Clanmates could wake up to warm fresh-kill. She’d already caught a couple mice and a plump thrush and was now searching for voles along the river bordering WindClan. She liked to bring back a variety of prey so everyone could have their favourite.

“Hey, Ravenpaw?” a voice called out.

Ravenpaw pricked her ears and looked across the river, seeing two young cats sitting there; one a pale calico, the other a yellow-and-white tom.

“Oh, hi there Sunpaw, Flowerpaw,” Ravenpaw greeted, padding up to the river’s edge nearest them. Flowerpaw looked anxiously over at Sunpaw, who flicked his tail encouragingly toward Ravenpaw.

“Hi, um, Sedgetail sent me to get some herbs from Frostwhisker?” the young she-cat’s voice was soft and quiet, Ravenpaw had to strain to hear her over the trickling of the river. “There are some medicines that we don’t have on the moor, and Sedgetail would have asked last night, but, um…” the pretty apprentice trailed off awkwardly, darting her pale green eyes at Ravenpaw.

“Oh, uh, yeah, I can go get him for you?” Ravenpaw offered, not really sure what the procedure here was. She knew that medicine cats viewed Clan borders as thinner than any other cat, but she also wasn’t about to invite enemy cats to ThunderClan’s camp.

“That would be good, thank you!” Flowerpaw purred, her tail lifting happily.

“Okay, wait here, I’ll be back soon,” Ravenpaw dipped her head, then took off running through the forest. She paused briefly only to pick up her thrush and take it back to camp with her. Ravenpaw dashed around trees and through bushes, already feeling like she could navigate this part of her territory with her eyes closed. She burst through the thorn tunnel into camp, catching a messy-pelted Patchsplash by surprise as he was emerging from the warrior’s den. A couple of the new kits dashed over, nearly tripping the apprentice by frolicking around her legs. She untangled herself from them and dropped her prey on the fresh-kill pile, then trotted over to Frostwhisker’s den.

The tom was currently watching Burnkit eat some leaves and looked up when Ravenpaw entered. “Flowerpaw’s at the border, Sedgetail sent her for herbs,” the apprentice puffed, winded from her run.

Frostwhisker flicked his tail. “Alright, I’ll come see her.” He tapped Burnkit with a paw. “Run along now,” he commanded, and the kit did so.

The old tom followed Ravenpaw out of camp and toward the WindClan border. He moved slowly and stiffly, and the young apprentice tried not to be irritated by this. They eventually made it to the river, and spied the young cats sitting patiently on the other side. Flowerpaw seemed to relax when she spotted Frostwhisker. The tom seemed to notice this and grumbled darkly under his breath.

“Okay, what is it you need?” Frostwhisker grunted, looking across at Flowerpaw and Sunpaw.

Flowerpaw glanced at her brother, then stood up. “Um, mostly things fr-”

“Speak up,” Frostwhisker snapped, and Flowerpaw looked alarmed. “I’m old enough to have been at your parents’ parents’ kitting, my hearing isn’t what is used to be.”

The medicine cat apprentice stared across the river with huge eyes, then glanced nervously at Sunpaw. Her brother said something quietly to her, and she took a breath.

“We need bark and leaves from a willow tree,” she stated, speaking at a louder volume, “also some alder bark, also-”

“Okay, I get it,” Frostwhisker silenced her. “Tree stuff, and I imagine a few other herbs more commonly found on our territory. I’ll forget if you list everything off so let’s just take it one at a time.” He flicked his tail, motioning. “Come on over.” The apprentices exchanged surprised glances. Frostwhisker rolled his eyes. “You have to collect your own fresh things; I’m not doing it for you. There’s a few rocks you can use a bit further up to cross.” The old cat stood and moved upriver a short distance.

The young WindClan cats padded along the river, then reached a point where the water was lower, and some stones stuck out. The two cats hopped over and landed on ThunderClan’s side, looking anxious. Frostwhisker regarded Sunpaw. “Where do you think you’re going?” the old tom growled.

Sunpaw blinked. “I was sent to help my sister.”

Frostwhisker shook his head. “That’s not necessary. This is medicine cat business; you should go back to your camp.”

Sunpaw shook his head. “I’m not leaving without Flowerpaw,” he stated resolutely.

Frostwhisker signed heavily. “Fine,” he snapped, and turned to Ravenpaw. “You stay here with him while I take the apprentice and show her where the things she needs is.”

“Me?” Ravenpaw sputtered.

“Who else?” Frostwhisker snorted, “come on,” he gestured to Flowerpaw. The pretty calico shot a nervous look at Sunpaw.

“It’s okay,” Ravenpaw muttered quietly to her, “his words are sharp, but he’s pretty soft.”

“I _heard_ that,” Frostwhisker growled, beginning to walk away.

Ravenpaw blinked at the old medicine cat. “I thought you were so old you could barely hear anymore?” Sunpaw strangled a laugh.

“Are you _coming_?” Frostwhisker questioned Flowerpaw, ignoring the black she-cat. The two cats soon vanished into the lush newleaf forest, leaving Sunpaw and Ravenpaw sitting alone by the river.

“He’s fun,” Sunpaw commented, flicking his ears in the direction the other cats went.

“He’s been through a lot,” Ravenpaw responded diplomatically. They sat in silence for a few moments.

“You weren’t at the Gathering yesterday,” Sunpaw observed, his pale green eyes trained on Ravenpaw.

“Oh, yeah,” Ravenpaw didn’t want to admit she had been in trouble for rescuing kittypet kits from a fire, “I’ve just been training really hard, so I was too tired to go,” she lied smoothly.

“Huh, okay. Well, don’t work yourself too hard next time okay? I missed you last night.”

A shiver went through Ravenpaw’s pelt. “You missed me?” she squeaked.

“Oh, well, yeah,” Sunpaw suddenly looked at the ground and flexed his claws. “I mean, you were nice and one of the first cats I met around my age that isn’t my littermates so…” he trailed off.

Ravenpaw searched for a topic to break the awkward silence. “What- what are your littermates like?”

Sunpaw purred. “They’re great. Flowerpaw is quiet and nervous about her role, but I know she’ll become confident in time and be the best medicine cat.” His eyes lit up when talking about his siblings. “Dawnpaw is pretty serious about most things, but she’s great when you get to know her more. She and Scrubpaw have trouble getting along because he goofs off a lot and she thinks he needs to take his duties more seriously.”

“Scrubpaw talked about eating a frog,” Ravenpaw informed the WindClan apprentice, “and Dawnpaw didn’t seem to like that much.”

“That sounds like them!” Sunpaw purred again. “You have a brother, don’t you? Crowpaw, right?” Ravenpaw nodded. “What’s he like?”

“He’s the best,” the she-cat meowed, “we look out for each other all the time. He helps me think things over, and I help him be more confident.”

“You sound very close.” Sunpaw observed.

Ravenpaw nodded. “Especially since our mother died.”

Sunpaw paused. “I’m sorry,” he meowed. “I- I know what that’s like.”

“Oh, I didn’t know,” Ravenpaw looked at him. “I’m sorry too.” Impulsively, she leaned her shoulder against his, offering comfort. The yellow tom leaned into her.

“My littermates and I look after each other. Our father was made deputy right before we lost our mother, so he was really busy all the time.” The young tom’s meows came out in a rush. Ravenpaw could empathize with that. Being leader, especially during this past leaf-bare, Bravestar was busy looking after the whole Clan and couldn’t focus on just her and Crowpaw.

“I’m sure she’s proud of you all,” Ravenpaw assured him.

“Yeah,” Sunpaw replied softly. “Yours too. Thanks for, uh, listening. I… don’t get to talk about this stuff often.” The WindClan cat turned his face toward Ravenpaw’s and gently nosed her cheek.

Ravenpaw’s heart jumped. She could smell Sunpaw’s fresh scent from running over the moors all day. His warm breath was nice, his fur soft against hers. She flashed hot under her pelt, feeling the beginnings of panic.

The she-cat suddenly sprang away from the tom, pelt bristling.

Sunpaw also jumped to his paws. “What’s wrong?”

“I- uh, there was a bee!” Ravenpaw stammered. “I- I thought it would sting me!”

The yellow-and-white tom looked around. “Well, it looks like it’s gone now.” He sat and scratched an ear. A look suddenly crept across his face, then he crouched down and began to stalk around Ravenpaw.

The she-cat’s pelt bristled. “What are you doing?”

“Practicing,” Sunpaw stated, wriggling his rump. He pounced at her.

Ravenpaw ducked, batting at Sunpaw with a soft paw. Sunpaw quickly turned around and sprang back at her. Ravenpaw darted sideways and then bowled toward the other apprentice, but he quickly leaped away and raked a sheathed paw along her flank.

_He’s so fast!_ Ravenpaw thought, realizing that the battle strategy this apprentice was using was entirely different from what she’d learned in ThunderClan. It was all she could do to stand where she was and take shots at him when he darted past.

She suddenly heard the thundering of heavy pawsteps, belonging to a cat much sturdier than Sunpaw. Ravenpaw glanced sideways to see the large tabby form of Dusktail, his amber eyes fixed on the WindClan apprentice. The ThunderClan deputy bowled Sunpaw over with a low growl, the yellow-and-white tom shrieking in surprise. The smaller form of Bravestar also burst from the trees, placing himself between Ravenpaw and the battling cats.

“Wait, stop!” Ravenpaw cried, trying to push past her father. Dusktail turned to look at her sharply, one of his forepaws on Sunpaw’s shoulder, the other on his neck. Sunpaw lay limp and still, his pale green eyes wide with fear.

“What are you doing on ThunderClan territory?” Dusktail hissed, fur prickling and teeth bared.

“He was just waiting for his sister!” Ravenpaw insisted, pushing Bravestar aside and darting over to Dusktail and Sunpaw.

“So there’s another one,” Dustktail growled, as Bravestar asked “what are they doing here?”

“Sunpaw’s sister Flowerpaw is a medicine cat apprentice. They came over to ask Frostwhisker for some herbs they can’t get on their territory,” Ravenpaw was meowing urgently to her father, occasionally glancing over at Dusktail. “Frostwhisker asked me to stay with Sunpaw while him and Flowerpaw collected herbs.”

Dusktail stared at his leader. Bravestar motioned to his deputy to let Sunpaw up. Dusktail stepped back, still stiff and cautious.

“Stand up,” Bravestar ordered to Sunpaw softly. The apprentice scrambled to his paws, flicking nervous looks at Dusktail.

“It is fine for medicine cats to visit in order to gather materials,” Bravestar stated, pacing slowly, “however he should have asked you to wait across the border.” He nodded to Sunpaw, his lowered his head. “Ravenpaw, you did nothing wrong by obeying Frostwhisker. Dusktail, escort this young tom back across the border, then wait for Frostwhisker and Flowerpaw to get back. Ravenpaw, come with me.”

Dusktail dipped his head to his leader, then motioned for Sunpaw to follow him. Sunpaw cast a sorrowful glance at Ravenpaw, then padded after the larger tabby tom. Bravestar flicked his tail at his daughter, then began padding slowly back towards camp. Ravenpaw followed, tail low. They walked in silence for a long while.

“Have you ever met Sunpaw at the border before?” Bravestar suddenly asked, his yellow eyes fixed ahead of him.

Ravenpaw looked at him, confused. “I’m sorry?”

Her father stopped, then turned his head to look at her. “How often have you met that WindClan apprentice at the border?”

“N-never! Well, just this once!” What was Bravestar accusing her of? “I’ve only met him once before, last moon at the Gathering.”

Bravestar nodded and continued walking, saying nothing. Anger flashed through Ravenpaw, and she darted past him, stopping just in front of her father, eyes narrowed. He stopped in surprise.

“What are you implying?” she demanded, trying to keep a growl out of her voice.

Bravestar regarded her calmly, but his tail twitched slightly. “If you had to, would you fight Sunpaw on behalf of ThunderClan?”

Ravenpaw took a step backward. “Are we at war with WindClan?”

“Answer me.”

Ravenpaw glared, hesitating. Would she fight Sunpaw, if asked? For that matter, could she fight Dawnpaw, Scrubpaw, or even Nettlepaw, the RiverClan apprentice? For so many moons, the Clans were so concerned with themselves that the idea of them fighting each other was a foreign concept to Ravenpaw. She couldn’t imagine the apprentices she’d met doing anything to cause a fight, but then again, she’d only met them once, and she didn’t know what the rest of their Clanmates were like.

“I would fight anyone I needed to in order to protect ThunderClan,” Ravenpaw stated.

“And you would also fight on my orders, even if you didn’t see the sense of it?”

Ravenpaw trusted that her father would never incite unnecessary violence. “Yes,” she replied.

Bravestar looked at her for a long moment, then nodded and continued to walk. Ravenpaw watched him go.

“I have some fresh-kill buried nearby,” she announced.

Bravestar flicked his tail. “Gather it, then,” but he didn’t stop to wait for her.

Ravenpaw felt her pelt prickle uneasily. Did her leader, her own father, not trust her? Had she proven herself so unreliable so far that Bravestar believed she could betray her own Clan? The apprentice felt the overwhelming urge to speak to her brother; Crowpaw always had a different way of looking at things and helping Ravenpaw figure things out.

The she-cat went looking for the mice she’d killed earlier, mind reeling with uncertainty.


	8. Clandestine Nights

“What do you think?”

Ravenpaw sat in the apprentice den with her brother, gazing at him with a concerned expression. She’d told Crowpaw about what happened earlier this day, and what their father had said to her.

“I think he’s afraid that he can’t trust you,” Crowpaw explained carefully.

The fur along Ravenpaw’s spine prickled slightly. “Of course he can trust me!” she insisted.

“I _know_ that,” Crowpaw replied, “and I’m sure Bravestar does to, but lately you haven’t _shown_ him that you can be trustworthy.”

“So my word means nothing?” Ravenpaw muttered darkly.

“Ravenpaw,” Crowpaw meowed sternly, his green eyes narrowed. His tail lashed slightly.

The she-cat lowered her ears. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly, “I shouldn’t take my frustrations out on you.”

Crowpaw moved to crouch beside her and gave her ear a reassuring lick. “It’s alright. Things are complicated right now, and ThunderClan is still recovering from leaf-bare.” Crowpaw was quiet for a moment. “We have the least cats of any of the Clans, and that’s scary.”

Ravenpaw’s stomach clenched with anxiety. A well-planned attack by the other Clans could destroy ThunderClan entirely, but why would they do that?

“Try talking to him,” Crowpaw continued, “and if you need me to, I can talk to him too.”

Ravenpaw stood. “Thanks, Crowpaw,” she nuzzled his shoulder, “I know I can always count on you.”

The she-cat left the den and blinked in the sunhigh light. Everyone was currently in camp. Snakefang, Poppylark, Patchsplash, and Willownose talked quietly and shared tongues outside the elder’s den. Dusktail and Wrenheart played with the kits while Stagpaw watched, taking his time eating a mouse. Frostwhisker and Bravestar were likely in their dens. Ravenpaw approached her father’s den and called out to him.

“Enter,” came the familiar voice.

Ravenpaw padded in and blinked while her eyes adjusted to the gloom. She slowly made out her father’s shape laying in his nest.

“Ravenpaw,” Bravestar meowed, “what is it?”

The leader’s den held warm, hazy memories for Ravenpaw. She vaguely remembered that sometimes her mother would bring her and her brother to Bravestar’s den so they could all curl up at night together. If she focused, Ravenpaw could almost smell the warm, milky scent of Nightbriar from her kithood.

The apprentice shook her head of the memories, both comforting and painful all at once. “I want you to know that you can trust me,” Ravenpaw stated, looking at Bravestar. “I know I’ve made mistakes, and to be honest I can’t say they’ll never happen again, but when it comes down to it, I am loyal to ThunderClan and to you. I trust you and the warriors with the decisions that you make.”

Bravestar stood and stretched lightly, then sat in his nest, tucking his tail around his paws. “Thank you, Ravenpaw,” he rumbled quietly, “I do believe you.”

Ravenpaw heart beat rapidly. “You do?”

Bravestar dipped his head. “Of course. I’m sorry if I say or imply otherwise.” Ravenpaw just stared at him. Bravestar closed his eyes. “The burden of leadership is heavy, Ravenpaw, especially now. If there is any good at all that came from this past leaf-bare, it’s that the threats from the other Clans have ceased for now.”

Ravenpaw felt her fur crawl. “Threats from the other Clans?”

Bravestar nodded. “RiverClan and ShadowClan were starting to scout out new territory, so us and WindClan were tense that they would come our way,” her father began to explain, “because of that we were hostile to each other, too, when really we should have strengthened our bond.” The older black cat sighed. “Aside from that, Ashstar and Flintfoot were always aggressive, over-eager to prove their strength and prowess in battle. Then Silverstar,” Bravestar frowned, “she’s cunning, and you can never trust her.”

Ravenpaw remembered the beautiful she-cat with the cold gaze from the Gathering.

Bravestar stood and walked to stand beside Ravenpaw. “I’ve had negative altercations with Moorstalker, Ravenpaw. I just wish for you to be careful.”

Ravenpaw understood. Moorstalker was Sunpaw’s father, so her relationship to the WindClan apprentice was especially concerning to him.

“Come, we need to work on battle training.”

“Wha-?” Ravenpaw jumped around to see her father leaving his den. She hurried after him as he called Crowpaw and Stagpaw to him.

“I want to see their abilities without coaching,” Bravestar explained to Patchsplash and Dusktail. Ravenpaw exchanged glances with Crowpaw when she heard that. It was just going to be Bravestar assessing all three of them?

The black-furred tom led the three apprentices out of the camp and toward the mossy clearing. Ravenpaw hoped she would do better at combat this time.

* * *

That night, Ravenpaw lay in her nest, miserable. Crowpaw and Stagpaw beat her handily in each fight they did, and not only was she tired and sore, but also extraordinarily embarrassed. Bravestar had watched with a neutral expression, but Ravenpaw couldn’t imagine that he was at all happy with her performance.

_Right after he told me how aggressive the other Clans were only a season ago,_ the she-cat thought miserably. She heaved a sigh and pushed herself up into a sitting position. Crowpaw slept deeply beside her, and Stagpaw snored softly on the other side of him. Restless, Ravenpaw quietly got up and left the apprentice den.

The clearing was extremely dark, clouds covering the sky only weakly letting the waning moon’s light through. She could just barely make out Wrenheart’s shape in the centre, the she-cat keeping watch this night.

Ravenpaw moved like a shadow along the edge of the clearing, hardly daring to breathe should the warrior notice her. The apprentice waited until Wrenheart turned her head away to creep past the she-cat. Slowly, carefully, Ravenpaw made it out of the camp.

The forest was dark, and the apprentice needed to take her time and be careful where she stepped. After a while she stopped and scented the area, realizing she wasn’t entirely sure of where she was. The fur on her spine began to lift and she felt hostility bore into her.

Suddenly, Ravenpaw felt a body tackle her own. With a yowl she fell, bowled over handily, and blindly flashed her claws around at her attacker. A shape moved away and sat calmly next to a tree, Ravenpaw left to scrabble to her paws with her fur fluffed out, eyes wide.

“An unimpressive response from a ThunderClan cat,” a voice purred, and Ravenpaw tried to discern who it was.

She was a slender warrior, with medium-long fur, black on her right side, and black fur heavily splattered with white on her left side. Intense emerald eyes bore into Ravenpaw.

“Who are you?” Ravenpaw demanded, tail lashing. The strange she-cat eyes glittered in the pale moonlight.

“I am someone who has a vested interest in your progression to become a warrior, Ravenpaw,” she responded silkily, “after all, I wouldn’t want my own kin to be a disappointing fighter.”

“Kin?” Ravenpaw asked warily.

The she-cat nodded and stood, rubbing herself lightly against the tree trunk. “My name is Snowflurry, and I am Nightbriar’s mother.”

Ravenpaw’s hostility melted away. “Nightbriar?” she croaked and looked around. “Is she here?”

“No,” Snowflurry responded sadly, “it’s not quite within the rules to come here like this, and I would not wish my daughter to be punished by StarClan for trying to help her own daughter.”

Ravenpaw looked at her grandmother, concerned. “Will you get in trouble for being here?”

Snowflurry padded close and let her pelt rub lightly against Ravenpaw’s. “No, I have means to keep myself safe.”

Ravenpaw opened her mouth to drink in the she-cat’s scent, detecting a slightly familiar note to it. Her heart ached. “So why are you here?”

“You are strong-willed, Ravenpaw,” Snowflurry said, beginning to slowly circle the apprentice, her tail touching lightly on her fur, “you are an accomplished hunter, and you aren’t afraid to make decisions. However,” the she-cat trained her green gaze on Ravenpaw, “your fighting skills are supremely lacking.”

Ravenpaw’s skin burned with shame. “It doesn’t come as easily to me as other things do,” she muttered. Lectured by nearly every warrior in the Clan, and now StarClan too?

“That’s no matter,” Snowflurry sniffed. “By the time I’m done with you, no cat will stand a chance in a fight against you. Now, stand tall, stop slouching and feeling sorry for yourself.”

Ravenpaw stood straight, lifting her head and tail high, and puffed her chest out.

“Now we will start with the basics. Foundations are key to building your skills. Without them you will be overcome easily,” the she-cat spoke with authority. “Now, attack me with a forepaw. Just a downward slash.”

Ravenpaw hesitated for a moment, then darted forward and with a sheathed paw struck down on Snowflurry’s shoulder and dragged her paw along the StarClan warrior’s leg. The she-cat barely moved.

“Hm,” she mused, “good technique but your strength is lacking. You need more power behind your front legs. Feel this!” Snowflurry struck forward and slammed her paw down on Ravenpaw’s shoulder, causing her to stagger. She gasped and shook the brief stunned pain feeling from her leg and shoulder. How could such a sleek cat have such a powerful attack? Snowflurry could clearly see the shock in Ravenpaw’s face and chuckled. “I know what you’re thinking. Allowing your opponent to underestimate you is also an effective battle strategy. Now, let’s test your grip…”

Ravenpaw trained with Snowflurry until she noticed the sky beginning to gray with dawn light. She gasped. “I need to get back to camp!”

“Alright,” the she-cat conceded, stepping back. Ravenpaw’s body shook with exhaustion and suddenly her eyes were sore from lack of sleep. “I will come to you again soon to resume our training.” Snowflurry suddenly darted forward and slammed her foot hard on Ravenpaw’s head. The apprentice gasped, bolting upright in her nest, her ears ringing.

“Ravenpaw, what’s wrong?” Crowpaw asked beside her, his voice thick with sleep. The fur on half his face was flattened from laying on it.

Ravenpaw shook her head, trying to clear the muggy feeling in her brain. Was she not just out in the forest? How was she now in her den back at camp? If what she experienced was just a dream, why did she still feel physically exhausted?

“Nothing,” she reassured her brother, “just an intense dream is all.”

“Oh, okay,” Crowpaw responded, yawning. “Well, I needed to get up anyway. Dawn patrol, ya know?” The tom shook out his pelt then left the den. Ravenpaw trailed after him, completely famished. She would try to have a quick bite then steal a nap to try and recuperate from her clandestine training session before starting her duties for the day.


	9. Desperate Times

Ravenpaw was napping in the warm sun when a commotion at the camp entrance caused her to look up. Wrenheart and Dusktail burst in, supporting Crowpaw between them. The black and white tom’s face was screwed up with pain. Ravenpaw was up in an instant, and swiftly Bravestar was beside her. They took over supporting Crowpaw.

“What happened?” Bravestar demanded, then called out for Frostwhisker.

“There’s a badger that’s set up inside our borders,” Dusktail responded huskily, “it’s about between the greenleaf twolegplace and the old twoleg den.”

“You will show me later,” Bravestar stated, and Dusktail nodded. Frostwhisker hobbled out of his den, directing Bravestar and Ravenpaw where to set Crowpaw down.

“We were investigating, and it surprised us,” Wrenheart meowed. “It slammed Crowpaw against a tree. Dusktail distracted it while I got him away.”

“Badgers are very strong,” Crowpaw offered, his voice cracking with pain. Frostwhisker was giving him a once over, sniffing him and lightly pressing on his body. Crowpaw yelped when he was prodded.

“His ribs are hurt,” the medicine cat grunted, “cracked or bruised, I don’t think they’re broken. Either way, he won’t be doing much for nearly a moon at least.” Crowpaw groaned in disappointment.

“I’m just thankful he’s not dead,” Bravestar whispered, giving his son’s ear a lick. He then left the den. Ravenpaw stayed with her brother until she heard her father’s summons to gather only a moment later.

“There is a badger within our territory,” Bravestar began. Any cat who hadn’t already been informed by the previous commotion gasped. Willownose brought her kits closer to her with a sweep of her tail.

“What’s a badger?” squeaked Rosekit.

“A huge creature that gobbles up kits!” Pinekit responded, and the other kittens gasped in fear. Willownose hushed her son.

“I was worried about this,” Bravestar continued. “We have so few warriors, we are stretched thin, and can’t patrol our own territory to ensure the safety of our Clan.” He paused for a moment. “Until further notice, I will be changing our borders to better accommodate our numbers.” Gasps and murmurs rose up from this announcement, and Bravestar waved his tail for silence. “We will maintain our full borders with WindClan and ShadowClan so as not to arouse suspicion. We will intermittently patrol our full border to deter any more intruders into our territory. But, when it comes to training, hunting, or anything else, you will be permitted only within our newer, temporary bounds.” With that, Bravestar leaped off the Highledge and ended the meeting.

Ravenpaw looked around to see what her Clanmates thought. Dusktail and Stagpaw sat with eyes narrowed, too respectful of their leader to speak aloud their displeasure. Wrenheart seemed unsure, and Patchsplash looked resigned to the order. Snakefang seemed quite irritated, and Poppylark was busy trying to get his fur to lie flat. Willownose looked scared, and the kits were all a mix of worried or beginning to act feisty.

It was a bold decision, but Ravenpaw trusted her father. She would support him no matter what. Besides, her favourite hunting grounds were on the opposite side of the territory. Ravenpaw left the clearing and went back to check on Crowpaw. Her brother was just licking up a couple of tiny seeds that Frostwhisker was giving him.

“Did you hear Bravestar’s announcement?” she inquired.

Frostwhisker nodded. “It’s an interesting decision.”

Ravenpaw looked at him. “Do you disagree?”

“No,” the medicine cat shook his head. “It’s a bold decision that not a lot of cats would make, and we’ll see how it pans out in the long run.”

“Be careful, Ravenpaw,” Crowpaw muttered sleepily from his nest. He tried to curl up but hissed in pain, so relaxed back in a sprawled-out position. “I know you like to hunt alone.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll look after myself,” Ravenpaw assured her brother, lightly nuzzling his neck. Even so, fear prickled under her pelt. From their kithood, Crowpaw and Ravenpaw were painfully aware of how brutal a badger could be. The young tom slowly drifted into sleep, and Frostwhisker eventually shooed her out of his den.

“All cats gather to me,” Bravestar’s voice rang out. Curious at the unusual summons, Ravenpaw padded out toward her father. He was standing in the middle of camp, regarding his small Clan. “I wish to go over, now, the most effective techniques to fight a badger. Our new apprentices know only the basics.” He gestured for Ravenpaw and Stagpaw to sit on front of him, and the rest of his warriors to assemble beside them.

“Badgers are huge and powerful,” Bravestar began, “you’ve seen that the force of its blow can severely injure already. If a badger gets its jaws around you, you’re done.” Bravestar was not softening his words at all, and his voice was hard. “However, they are clumsy, and a cat can out maneuver one without too much trouble. Now, the best strategy is to quickly leap over it, spin quick, and attack. Let’s practice.”

The kits stared in awe as they watched the apprentices and warriors practice their battle moves and strategies.

“Can we try?” Pinekit asked, his eyes wide.

“You’re too young,” Willownose told him, licking him between the ears.

“Actually, he could learn some basics,” Bravestar meowed, approaching the kit. “We can work on your jumping, your dodging, and a little bit of front paw swiping, okay?”

“Yes, please!” Pinekit bounced around, eager to learn.

“What about us?” Slatekit squeaked.

“ _You_ are _definitely_ too small,” Willownose meowed sternly.

Bravestar was nodding. “You and your littermates can practice running around as _fast_ as you can. Here,” Bravestar motioned to Snakefang and Poppylark, “you all start running around Willownose and the elders, and do your best not to get hit by their paws, okay?”

“I’m gonna win!” Sandkit immediately proclaimed, jumping to his paws and began to dart around the older cats. His siblings are followed suit while Poppylark, Willownose, and Snakefang gently batted at them with soft paws.

The Clan spent until sundown going over strategy and planning. The kits ended up in a pile, exhausted. Carefully, some cats carried them into the nursery for the night. Ravenpaw felt like she was asleep on her paws. She was still exhausted from training with Snowflurry last night, and only slept a little today before the badger training. The she-cat dragged her paws to Frostwhisker’s den.

“Can I sleep here tonight?” she asked the medicine cat quietly. “I’ve never spent a night away from Crowpaw before.”

Frostwhisker glared at her, then looked over to Crowpaw. He had shifted only a little since she’d seen him last. “Fine, but not too close. We don’t want to jostle him.”

Ravenpaw nodded and sank into a nest next to her brother. She curled up, the fur on her spine lightly brushing against her brother’s pelt and sank quickly into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

Ravenpaw woke to a bright morning, and the sound of a thrumming purr. Blearily she looked over at Crowpaw and saw a small bundle tucked up against his belly. Confused, Ravenpaw stood and walked around her brother.

One of the kittypet kits was curled tightly, sleeping soundly beside Crowpaw. Even though he was sleeping, a strong purr radiated from his tiny body. Ravenpaw recognized him as Stormkit. Why was he here?

“Stormkit?” Ravenpaw chirped quietly.

The little kit’s head snapped up and he blinked his large eyes at her. “Yeah?”

“What are you doing here?”

Stormkit looked over at Crowpaw, then back to Ravenpaw. “I wanted to help. I’m making him feel better.”

“Uh,” Ravenpaw didn’t know how to respond to that.

“Who’s out here gossiping?” Snarled Frostwhisker, padding out from his part of the den with messy fur.

“We’re not gossiping,” Ravenpaw responded, indignant.

Frostwhisker focused his gaze on Stormkit. “What’s he doing here?”

“I’m helping Crowpaw!” Stormkit stated, snuggling deeper into Crowpaw’s belly and beginning to purr again.

Frostwhisker frowned and exchanged looks with Ravenpaw. She shrugged.

“Well, whatever, you have work to do, I’m sure. I’ll deal with _this_ ,” he gestured to Stormkit, “later.”

Ravenpaw emerged from Frostwhisker’s den to find Patchsplash making his way over to her. “ _There_ you are,” he breathed, “visiting Crowpaw?”

“Sort of,” Ravenpaw nodded, “I slept next to him last night.”

“Hm, that was kind of Frostwhisker,” Patchsplash twitched his whiskers. “Come on, we’re hunting for the Clan today. Don’t stray too far from me,” he instructed.

Even though Ravenpaw knew why they had to stick together, she was still a little annoyed by it. As they were leaving, Patchsplash explained that Bravestar and Dusktail were patrolling borders, and their leader was assessing the situation himself. Ravenpaw’s mentor took this opportunity to work on her partner hunting skills. They worked together flushing prey out of hiding and chasing it toward the other cat. Ravenpaw appreciated the teamwork and fun of hunting with someone else but was certainly missing being able to be alone with her thoughts.

When Patchsplash wasn’t looking, Ravenpaw tried to work on her paw slash strength. When killing smaller prey, she practiced breaking their spine with a sharp slap of her paw instead of a bite to the back of their neck. With every catch she was getting better at it.

As the sun neared its zenith, Patchsplash and Ravenpaw took down a nice plump rabbit. “That should be more than enough,” the white tom meowed, then twitched his ears, “the river’s just that way, let’s grab a drink before we head back. Go ahead, I’ll just bury this quickly.” Ravenpaw nodded and bounded over to the river that bordered their territory with ShadowClan’s. The strong scent of her own Clan wafted from the trees that bordered the river.

The black-furred apprentice approached the river and began to lap up the refreshing water when an unfamiliar voice called out to her.

“Hey, thundercat, is that dock next to you?”

Ravenpaw looked up, alarmed, and met the green eyes of a tortoiseshell she-cat crouched on the other side of the river. Her face was perfectly half black and half orange. There were some beads of red on her nose, and Ravenpaw realized that she had a scratch on her face.

“Uh…” Ravenpaw looked confusedly around her, not sure what the she-cat was asking for.

The ShadowClan warrior rolled her eyes. “The thick green leaves there,” she pointed with her tail. Ravenpaw looked.

“Okay, what about it?”

“Can I have some? I’m not sure if you can see, but I’ve a bit of a scratch.”

“What happened?” Ravenpaw inquired.

The ShadowClan warrior sniffed. “That’s none of your business,” she responded, her tail lashing.

“What’s going on over here?” Patchsplash pushed through the underbrush.

“Patchsplash, hello,” the she-cat purred, blinking slowly.

“Greetings, Splitface,” Patchsplash waved his tail. “I see you’ve met Ravenpaw.”

The warrior, identified as Splitface, twitched her nose. “Is she your apprentice? Somewhat nosy, she is.”

Ravenpaw twisted her lip in irritation at the comment but felt Patchsplash’s tail on her back to calm her down. “She’s well-intended, and also one of the top hunters in our Clan already,” the tom responded diplomatically.

“She wants one of these leaves,” Ravenpaw told him, motioning to the plant near her.

Patchsplash sniffed. “Dock?” he looked over at Splitface, “for that scratch?” Splitface nodded. “You can have a leaf, if you swim over to get it.” Patchsplash nipped a large leaf off and placed it at the edge of the river. Splitface stood, stretched lightly, then walked confidently into the water. Ravenpaw’s pelt shuddered at the idea of swimming.

The ShadowClan warrior swam quickly and powerfully toward the ThunderClan cats. If she was uncomfortable with the water, she didn’t show it at all. The tortoiseshell cat barely stepped out of the river, her pelt streaming with water, and quickly snatched the dock leaf. She whirled promptly and went back to her own territory. Once safely on the other side she shook her pelt, little droplets spraying everywhere. She turned, dipped her head to Patchsplash and herself, then disappeared into the pine forest.

“She’s… fun.” Ravenpaw meowed dryly.

Patchsplash chuckled. “She’s a fine warrior,” he replied simply. He stepped forward and took a long drink from the river. “If you’re done here, let’s bring our catches back to camp, shall we?”


	10. Shadows Lurking

The hot air of the day began to recede with the incoming cool newleaf night. Greenleaf was coming, and each day was hotter and stuffier than the last. Patchsplash and Dusktail were taking Ravenpaw and Crowpaw on an evening patrol along their proper borders, and each cat was tense for signs of intruders – cat or otherwise.

Crowpaw made a remarkable recovery and was declared fully healed by Frostwhisker’s earliest estimates. “Don’t think you can recover so quickly forever,” the old medicine cat had grumbled, “young cats tend to heal more quickly than the rest of us.”

Ravenpaw’s brother was relishing his freedom from injury. Dusktail had been assessing him since morning, and while the young tom’s stamina was suffering from resting so long, his skills and desire to learn was as sharp as ever. He refused to show his tiredness now, and was looking around bright-eyed, his whiskers twitching rapidly.

The patrol had gone along the WindClan border first, then up past the abandoned twoleg nest, and was now headed for the ShadowClan border furthest from camp. They’d briefly scented badger and seen some evidence of digging done by its powerful claws. Bravestar told his warriors and apprentices to train as much as they could and eat their fill this greenleaf, for he wished to drive the badger away in leaf-fall, to prevent it coming after their camp during the harsh leaf-bare moons. Ravenpaw looked forward to the event with apprehension, but also excitement; if she and Crowpaw weren’t warriors by then and they performed well driving off the badger, they’d surely earn their names for that.

Dusktail brought his patrol to a halt by lifting his tail. His amber eyes were narrowed, and his mouth was open to scent his surroundings. “ShadowClan,” he hissed after a moment.

The rest of the patrol followed suite, and Ravenpaw could taste the sharp tang of pine and their rival Clan where they shouldn’t be. This particular border had nobody’s territory beyond it, so technically ShadowClan had every right to be there. But if they could be scented from here, it meant they were skirting the ThunderClan territory lines that they’d been patrolling less frequently.

Patchsplash crossed their border and hunted around for a moment, coming back to the patrol with his ears back. “They were definitely right there,” he meowed seriously.

Dusktail bared his teeth. “Let’s quickly finish up and head back to tell Bravestar.”

The patrol took up a light jog to finish their patrol, one cat staying behind to mark their territory and running to catch up to the group. Before long they were walking back through the thorn tunnel and into camp. Dusktail immediately reported to Bravestar’s den. Crowpaw and Ravenpaw picked a squirrel from the fresh-kill pile to share and were settling in to eat when their leader came out and leaped upon the Highledge to summon his warriors.

“ShadowClan may have discovered our less-patrolled border,” the shorter tom began, his voice tired. “Due to this, we will resume at least one daily patrol along all our regular borders, with senior warriors patrolling extra as needed.” He looked over his Clan, his yellow eyes hard. “The rules for staying within our smaller borders when hunting, training, and anything else still stands.” With that he ended the meeting and went to confer with Dusktail and Patchsplash.

Ravenpaw sighed, looking over to her brother. “I guess this is happening again,” she meowed solemnly, her brother nodding in agreement.

* * *

The ThunderClan cats walked the log to the gathering island. By the smell of the path, all the other Clans were here already. Ravenpaw looked nervously toward her father as he walked determinedly forward, wondering what this meeting would bring. ShadowClan had been scented many more times along their border where they shouldn’t be and based on what the warriors thought of Ashstar and Flintfoot, this was definitely a sign of trouble.

Frostwhisker, having come to his first gathering in many moons, hobbled over to the other medicine cats. Ravenpaw avoided Halfsight as much as she could. She noticed Splitface not far away, conversing with a brown RiverClan tom. The tortoiseshell she-cat briefly locked eyes with Ravenpaw, acknowledged her with a small nod of her head, and then went back to her conversation.

Ravenpaw sought out the apprentices, a fresh crop of young ShadowClan cats she didn’t recognize talking with the WindClan apprentices. Before she made it over with Crowpaw and Stagpaw, Ravenpaw noticed a familiar brown tabby sitting not too far away.

“Nettlepaw, hi!” Ravenpaw greeted, approaching the young RiverClan cat.

“Actually, it’s Nettlenose now,” the tabby responded, eyes brimming with pride.

“Oh, congratulations!” Ravenpaw brushed her pelt against Nettlenose’s. The new RiverClan warrior purred, then went to join her mentor in a different group of cats. Ravenpaw hurried over to the apprentices. Sunpaw greeted her warmly, and she sat next to him.

“So anyway,” a light grey tom was saying, “the rabbit ripped itself _right_ out of Bugpaw’s claws and started to dash away. Luckily, I was there to help, and caught it.” A gray and white tom sitting next to him rolled his amber eyes, and a small black tom hunched in on himself.

“It’s good you’re there to help your brother be the best apprentice he can be, Sootpaw,” Sunpaw responded coolly, knowing that Sootpaw was bragging about succeeding where his brother failed more than anything.

“Well, yeah, of course, that’s what a littermate is for,” Sootpaw scratched his ear casually with a hind leg.

“Ravenpaw, these are some of ShadowClan’s newest apprentices,” Dawnpaw informed her. “Sootpaw, Bugpaw, and Cedarpaw. They’re Ashstar’s kits.” She turned to the ShadowClan cats. “Ravenpaw is Bravestar’s kit, along with Crowpaw.”

“Nice to meet you,” meowed the gray and white apprentice, Cedarpaw. “We have another brother, Rockpaw, but he’s on camp duty tonight.”

A yowl from the great tree caused the apprentices to cease their chatter.

Silverstar and Heatherstar reported the usual good news, with Silverstar welcoming Nettlenose as a full warrior.

Finally, it came to Ashstar or Bravestar. The toms exchanged a long glance before Ashstar stood forward. He praised his Clan for their hunting prowess, reported his apprentices were learning quickly, and that a new litter of healthy kits had been born.

“Finally, I must breach a topic I regret to bring up,” the grey tom announced with a fake remorseful tone in his voice. He turned to ThunderClan’s leader. “Bravestar, my warriors have reported that your Clan is in violation of the warrior code.” Shock meows and whispers sparked up from the assembled cats. The fur along Ravenpaw’s spine raised and looking to the side she saw that Sootpaw sat with a smug expression on his face. “The code states that borders must be checked and marked daily but based on reports there have been many days where ThunderClan hasn’t been doing so. What’s happening, Bravestar?”

Ravenpaw was in awe that her father remained cool and collected. Bravestar got to his paws and moved forward. “I do not know how your warriors came by this information,” he began coolly.

Ashstar’s fur raised. “Are you calling my warriors liars?” he spat.

The white tip of Bravestar’s tail twitched slightly. “Our borders with ShadowClan remain as strong as ever.”

“ThunderClan’s borders with WindClan are the same as they ever were,” Heatherstar contributed, narrowing her eyes at Ashstar.

The ShadowClan leader shook his head. “The river borders are fine,” he growled, “I’m referring to ThunderClan’s border with unclaimed territory.”

“What were your warriors doing there?” Bravestar questioned. Heatherstar and Silverstar also looked at the gray leader inquisitively.

Ashstar waved his paw in front of him. “ShadowClan is growing quickly; we were investigating the possibility of expanding our borders.” Silverstar’s hackles rose at the statement. “Of course, we would _never_ try to take territory from another Clan,” Ashstar added smoothly. “So, Bravestar, why have you been lacking patrols along that border?”

Bravestar took a moment and inhaled deeply. Ravenpaw deeply admired the tom’s ability to remain calm and focused. “ThunderClan has a threat at that border,” he began, “I would rather have fewer border patrols there, but stronger, than risking my Clanmates on more patrols with fewer cats.”

Heatherstar twitched her whiskers. “What sort of threat?” the pale brown tabby asked.

“Badger,” Bravestar said simply, “it injured one of our apprentices. Fortunately, he has made a full recovery.”

Ravenpaw noticed the WindClan and ShadowClan apprentices cast their eyes over Stagpaw and Crowpaw, clearly wondering which one of them had been attacked.

“Regardless Bravestar,” Silverstar meowed flatly, “the warrior code states you must check your borders daily.”

“I’m aware, Silverstar,” Bravestar responded, “and since my own warriors detected ShadowClan cats had been along that border, we’ve gone back to daily patrols there.”

“So, there is no issue,” Heatherstar said to Ashstar.

Ashstar slowly shook his head. “Really, how can one badger be so formidable that _the_ Bravestar is breaking the warrior code?” The ShadowClan leader’s amber eyes looked off into the distance. “How many warriors do you have? Two?”

Bravestar remained silent.

“Ashstar,” Heatherstar snapped, “You know that _all_ of us suffered great losses this past leaf-bare. There is no reason to be deliberately antagonistic like this”

Ashstar looked at Bravestar with a lazy expression. “How nice for another Clan to come to your rescue,” he crooned.

The ThunderClan cats assembled hissed quietly. Some of the ShadowClan warriors chuckled.

“ThunderClan is doing well,” Bravestar announced. “We are well-fed and happy. I see a bright future ahead for us.” With that, the ThunderClan leader left the branches of the tree and ended the Gathering.

The assembled cats began to group up with their Clans and leave the island. Sunpaw and his littermates said farewell to Ravenpaw and the other ThunderClan apprentices, then left. As ShadowClan moved past, Ravenpaw noticed Splitface regarding her leader with a cool expression. It seemed not all of Ashstar’s warriors were pleased with his antics this night.

As ThunderClan made their slow way back home along the lake, matching their pace to Frostwhisker’s, Bravestar suddenly raised his tail to stop his Clan. Heatherstar sat, blocking their way.

“I regret how our Clans’ relationship has been in the past,” she meowed, “and I wish you to know that if you have troubles with ShadowClan, you can rely on WindClan to help.”

Bravestar dipped his head. “Thank you, Heatherstar. Your support of ThunderClan is appreciated.”

“Also,” Heatherstar meowed slowly, “if you need assistance driving away the badger…”

Bravestar hesitated here. The options were to accept help, but admit being weakened, or refuse the help and risk his own warriors more.

“Thank you for the offer,” the tom replied, “but I believe we will be able to handle it ourselves.”

“Of course,” Heatherstar blinked slowly, “I did not mean to imply anything.”

“Of course not,” Bravestar responded. The WindClan leader dipped her head, then took off across the moonlit moor. Ravenpaw watched her leave until the she-cat disappeared behind the crest of a hill.

Hope flared in Ravenpaw’s chest. Maybe with ThunderClan and WindClan on better terms, her friendship would Sunpaw would upset her father less.


	11. Forced Paw

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all!
> 
> I just wanted to make known my appreciation for everyone who's reading my fic. Every hit, bookmark, kudos, and comment means the WORLD to me, and I appreciate every single one of you!
> 
> It's been a long time since I've written fiction, and the fact I'm not doing terribly after... 8? years means so much.
> 
> So yeah, thank you so much, and I hope you all keep enjoying the story!
> 
> ~AbbyGold

* * *

“You’ve been learning well,” Snowflurry purred, shaking out her pelt. Ravenpaw’s sides heaved as she caught her breath. “Has your mentor noticed?”

“Yes,” Ravenpaw responded breathily, “he and Bravestar are very impressed with my progress these past couple moons.” During training sessions with Stagpaw and Crowpaw, Ravenpaw slowly found herself winning more and more often.

The long-furred she-cat sniffed. “Good. Now, it’s time to move on to new tactics.”

Ravenpaw’s head lifted in excitement. What did her nighttime mentor have to teach her now?

“I’ll give you a choice,” she continued, purring. “I know you’ve been having some… _Incidents_ with ShadowClan recently,” at the mention of their rival Clan, Ravenpaw felt a low growl come up her throat. “So, we can practice more _intense_ battle moves, or focus on how to overcome disadvantages if you get injured.”

Ravenpaw paused, thinking. She was anxious to be the best fighter she could be, but it seemed smarter to make sure she could keep fighting no matter what happened.

“Let’s work on disadvantages,” she meowed.

Snowflurry nodded. “Alright then.” She suddenly darted forward and slammed her paws hard into Ravenpaw’s shoulder, digging in at just the right spots so the apprentice’s leg buckled and went numb.

“Wha-” Ravenpaw gasped, stumbling.

“Defend yourself!” Snowflurry yowled, launching herself at Ravenpaw.

Ravenpaw jumped sideways, then stumbled and fell when her leg couldn’t reliably hold her weight. She rolled over quickly as Snowflurry’s paws landed heavily where she just was. Ravenpaw scrambled to her feet, her leg still limp. She pushed off hard with her hind legs and raked her sheathed paw down the she-cat’s neck. She was unable to get her paw back under her in time though and stumbled again.

_That’s it!_ Ravenpaw thought triumphantly. Snowflurry leaped at her, and Ravenpaw rose to meet the attack. The she-cats buffeted each other with their paws until Snowflurry managed to knock Ravenpaw sideways. The sleek black cat curled her body and allowed her roll to absorb the impact of hitting the ground. She then stumbled to her paws out of the roll.

Snowflurry’s eyes glittered. “Good!” she praised, attacking again. Soon enough Ravenpaw was able to roll to compensate for her numb leg and landed on her paws squarely every time. Her toes tingled as feeling came back to them.

“Well done, well done!” Snowflurry purred, her demeanor entirely shifted as she rubbed her cheek along Ravenpaw’s. “You thought quickly and overcame a disadvantage with the skill of a full warrior!” Ravenpaw beamed with pride. Her kin was such a good teacher! She had been initially annoyed at the lack of warning before maiming her, but now she understood that it was to make her think on her feet.

“You’ve been gaining power in your blows, too,” Snowflurry continued.

Ravenpaw nodded. “I’ve been killing prey with a paw strike to their spine instead of nipping their neck.”

“You certainly have the skills of your mother coursing through your body,” Snowflurry commented.

Ravenpaw’s nose twitched. “Bravestar too, he’s a formidable warrior.”

Snowflurry sniffed. “I suppose he’s skilled in spite of his heritage.”

“Heritage?” Ravenpaw echoed, confused.

The black-and-white she-cat cast a cold eye over Ravenpaw. “Bravestar’s mother was a kittypet.”

Ravenpaw blinked. A _kittypet_? How didn’t she know that?

Snowflurry licked between her claws. “She was a kittypet abandoned by her twolegs. ThunderClan took pity on her and took her in, at the behest of Bravestar’s father.” The she-cat shook her head slowly. “A rough leaf-bare scared her off of Clan lifestyle, and she left to find new twolegs before Bravestar was even out of the nursery.”

“But, there’s nothing wrong with kittypets, right?” Ravenpaw meowed, shocked that she was kin to one. “I mean, the kits we rescued- they act like any Clanborn kit!”

“Hm, for now,” Snowflurry meowed solemnly, “but in my experience kittypets end up far more cowardly and aren’t as dedicated to their Clan as those of us born to the life.”

_Is that true?_ Ravenpaw thought. Were the kits she brought in destined to be cowardly and disloyal because of how they were born? Bravestar was the best warrior, their _leader_ , but he was technically Clanborn. Suddenly steeled with resolve, Ravenpaw lifted her chin. “I will make sure the kittypet kits grow up to be as fine warriors as any,” she vowed, a small bit of anxiety churning in her belly.

Snowflurry shrugged. “Don’t come mewling to me if that isn’t the case,” she responded simply. “Now, dawn is approaching, I should leave you. Remember our lessons and keep practicing.”

As what usually happened at the end of their lessons, Snowflurry gave Ravenpaw a smart swat over her ears with a sheathed paw, and Ravenpaw jerked awake in her nest.

“Oh, I was about to wake you,” Crowpaw meowed, his back arching in a huge stretch. Ravenpaw yawned, trying not to show her physical weariness. The siblings left Stagpaw sleeping in his nest and went to join the dawn patrol.

Since ShadowClan outed their problem, ThunderClan patrolled their full borders at least twice a day with large patrols. This morning Dusktail and Patshsplash were taking their apprentices, and Wrenheart joined them as well. They would hunt for themselves early, and on their way back to camp would become a quick hunting patrol so the camp-bound cats were fed. Daily battle training happened in the camp or just outside, and everyone was becoming wearier as the days dragged on. Ravenpaw found herself missing Sunpaw; they saw each other a few times a moon across the border and would chat over the quietly babbling stream. Lately, however, there was no time to do so, and no one was allowed outside of camp alone.

The patrol took their time along ShadowClan’s border, Dusktail insisting on marking more often than normal since the Gathering. They turned to patrol the Clanless border when a threatening scent wafted across the group. The fur on Ravenpaw’s back spiked as she recognized the fresh scent of badger.

Dusktail opened his mouth to issue orders when the shocked screech of a cat reached their ears, followed by panicked yowls. The patrol froze and exchanged glances with each other, then Dusktail yowled “Come on!” and crashed across the border.

Badger, blood, and fear-scent bathed Ravenpaw’s tongue as she came upon the scene. The hulking black-and-white form of the badger was whipping the limp bpdy of dark brown tabby clutched in its jaws, blood spraying across its pelt and the surrounding greenery. A tortoiseshell she-cat crouched in a nearby tree on a branch, her green eyes wide with horror.

Dusktail yowled a battle cry and leaped into action. He and Wrenheart threw themselves against the badger’s side, their combined weight just enough to cause the badger to stumble and drop the tabby. Patchsplash darted in a swiped his claws across its muzzle. Crowpaw jumped and landed square on the creature’s back as Ravenpaw ducked under its belly and clawed at the back of its front legs. The quick assault overwhelmed the badger as it roared, and then began to crash away from the warriors. Wrenheart and Patchsplash continued to harry it away while Dusktail stood between it and the tabby’s form on the ground.

“Are you okay?” Crowpaw asked Ravenpaw, his green eyes wide with concern.

Ravenpaw shook her pelt. “Completely, you?”

Crowpaw nodded, and their heads turned as the tortoiseshell jumped from the tree and landed near them. Ravenpaw recognized Splitface, the ShadowClan she-cat.

“Mudstripe?” she meowed quietly, approaching the tabby’s body.

Dusktail sniffed at the cat, then placed a paw gently on its shoulder. He shook his head slightly. “He’s gone,” he responded solemnly.

Ravenpaw watched Splitface, expecting the she-cat to begin wailing with distress at losing her Clanmate. The tortoiseshell’s face remained still, and then twisted into anger.

“ _Mouse-brain_!” she raged, her tail lashing as she stormed a few steps away from Mudstripe’s body. The assembled ThunderClan cats blinked on shock. Patchsplash and Wrenheart returned, confusion etched on their faces.

“What’s going on?” Wrenheart’s soft voice questioned.

Splitface padded back toward Mudstripe. Ravenpaw couldn’t tell the expression the she-cat’s face bore.

“Mudstripe _insisted_ on hunting near here. He thought there would be more prey in the area because of your lack of patrols,” she explained. Dusktail’s fur rose at the statement. “I told him it was too dangerous and stupid because of the badger, but the mouse-brain insisted.”

Dusktail looked toward Mudstripe’s corpse. “Did you try to help him?”

“Of course I did!” Splitface snapped. She raised a paw and used her teeth to tear some badger fur from between her claws. “But as soon as it grabbed Mudstripe in its jaws, I knew it was over. _Nothing_ you do could make a badger let go before it’s too late. Besides, I’m only one cat.” Her tail lashed angrily, then she lowered her head in a semblance of sorrow. “How will I tell Talonstrike? And Cedarpaw?”

Ravenpaw remembered the name from the Gathering and realized that Mudstripe must have been the gray-and-white tom’s mentor. Her heart wrenched at the idea of losing Patchsplash.

“We’ll help you bring him back to your camp,” Dusktail meowed, moving toward the body.

Splitface seemed to hesitate. “Just… bring him to the border.” She meowed. “I’ll bring a patrol to fetch him.” With a dip of her head, the she-cat took off through the forest.

Wrenheart tipped her head. “That was a strange reaction to a Clanmate’s death,” she murmured, then turned to help Dusktail and Patchsplash get Mudstripe’s body on their backs.

“Crowpaw, Ravenpaw, run back to camp and inform Bravestar what’s happened,” Dusktail ordered. Ravenpaw tried not to cringe as Mudstripe’s head lolled sickeningly, implying a broken neck, and she saw his thick blood oozing onto Patchsplash’s fur.

The littermates raced back, Ravenpaw stopping quickly to hunt a fat squirrel to feed her Clanmates. They padded into camp to see the kits all watching Bravestar and Stagpaw work on some battle moves. Seeing his children, Bravestar stopped the lesson and approached.

“Where’s the rest of your patrol?” he questioned, a touch of anxiety behind his mew. Crowpaw quickly explained what happened while Ravenpaw delivered the squirrel to the elders.

Poppylark shook her head and nodded to the kits. “Feed them first,” she meowed quietly. As Ravenpaw turned to do so, she saw Frostwhisker emerge from the elder’s den, his face grim.

“What’s going on?” Ravenpaw questioned, concerned. Poppylark exchanged a glance with Frostwhisker.

“Snakefang isn’t doing so well,” Poppylark whispered, her eyes clouded with sadness.

“He’s almost as old as me, it was only a matter of time,” Frostwhisker rasped, but despite his words, the old tom’s tone was mournful.

“Something inside him isn’t working good,” a small voice mewed. The older cats all turned to see Stormkit sitting at the entrance to the elder’s den, his blueish-gray eyes oddly full of wisdom.

“Where did you come from?” Frostwhisker demanded, clearly unaware the kit had been in the den with him.

Stormkit turned to look into the den. “I don’t know how to help him,” he replied sadly.

“Well of course you don’t, you’re a kit!” Frostwhisker snapped.

“Be gentle with him, Frostwhisker,” Poppylark meowed icily. Frostwhisker grunted and padded off to return to his den.

“Did I do something wrong?” Stormkit asked, looking from Poppylark to Ravenpaw.

Poppylark pulled the kit closer and licked him between his ears. “No, dear, Frostwhisker just has thistles in his pelt is all.”

Ravenpaw delivered her catch to the rest of the kits, who fell upon it hungrily. She proceeded to pace the camp anxiously until the patrol finally returned. The she-cat noticed that Patchsplash’s pelt was damp, and the old tom began to wash himself dry while Dusktail and Wrenheart reported to Bravestar. Ravenpaw offered to help him.

“I washed most of the blood off in the stream,” her mentor muttered between licks. Even so, Ravenpaw could taste the copper tang of blood on his pelt.

“Attention everyone,” Bravestar meowed, not bothering to ascend to his normal place to gather the Clan together. “It’s clear that this badger is more dangerous than we realized, for even if we treat its presence with caution, other cats will not.” He took a deep breath. “Tomorrow, we drive it off.” The black and white tom cast his eyes over his assembled Clan. “Patchsplash and Stagpaw will stay in camp to watch the kits and elders,” Stagpaw’s wail of protect was quickly cut off by his father. “Dusktail, Wrenheart, Willownose, Ravenpaw, and Crowpaw; we will leave at dawn tomorrow to drive the badger out. They are most active at night, so hopefully we will catch it tired. Eat and rest well.” The tom approached his kits. “I’m proud of you, and I know you’ll do ThunderClan proud.”


	12. The Badger

The patrol moved swiftly and silently through the dawn-lit forest, the dew from overnight soaking into their pelts. Ravenpaw shivered slightly as the water seeped down to her skin.

They’d left a sour tempered Stagpaw back at camp, and although Ravenpaw was excited to face the badger, her belly squirmed with nerves and she worried deeply for her Clanmates. Would she do okay? What if she made a mistake and someone got hurt because of it? Her thoughts continued to spiral until she felt a gentle touch on her back and turned to see Crowpaw giving her a soft look that spoke volumes.

_We’ll be fine,_ she thought resolutely.

Soon the stench of badger wafted over the patrol, and every cat’s hackles raised, and their muscles tensed. Huge scratch marks on trees and in the ground hinted at the powerful, massive claws that the badger possessed. Rounding a bush, the sett was spotted, tucked neatly under the thick roots of a huge oak tree. Bravestar halted the patrol and motioned with his tail to Ravenpaw and Crowpaw. Nodding, the apprentices stalked forward while the patrol spread out behind them. The siblings peered into the entrance of the sett, the overwhelming stench of the badger wafting out. It was definitely in there. With a nod to each other, Ravenpaw and Crowpaw took deep breaths and began yowling loudly.

Almost instantly, huffing and grunting could be heard from inside the den. Ravenpaw’s tail fluffed as she bolted away from the hole, checking over her shoulder to make sure Crowpaw was also running away. She saw her brother, fur on end, diving behind a clump of ferns. Ravenpaw felt her fur ruffle as Bravestar leaped past her and toward the badger. The apprentice stayed back for a moment, as her father instructed.

The badger burst from its den roaring, and Bravestar immediately leaped for its face, claws outstretched. He gripped its face and raised his hind legs, raking his rear claws down the badger’s snout. When the giant creature made to swipe Bravestar off its face, the black-and-white tom hooked his hind claws in tight and pushed himself upward, grasping on to the oak tree a few tail-lengths up. Before the badger could turn and reach for Bravestar, Dusktail and Wrenheart came at it from both sides. Dusktail leaped over the badger’s back, raking one paw along as he went. Wrenheart ducked under its belly, stopping briefly to slash at the back of its legs before darting back out. The badger decided to go for Wrenheart, charging at her with its maw open, its teeth glistening with saliva. Wrenheart turned to face it, back arched and hissing. Willownose jumped in, the plan being for her to enter combat if the badger ever went after any warrior who was alone. She she-cats swiped at the badger in synchronicity, causing it to be in the defensive instead of the offensive.

While it was distracted, Dusktail darted forward and gripped one of its hind legs, then bit down hard. The badger roared again, turning to slam a paw down on the tabby tom. Bravestar threw himself down off the tree and landed squarely on the badger’s back, but the enemy’s attack went through anyway. Dusktail was still unhooking his claws from the badger when the weighty paw slammed into him, sending him skidding a fox-length along the forest floor.

Ravenpaw and Crowpaw leaped into action. Ravenpaw put herself between Dusktail and the badger, while Crowpaw helped his deputy to his paws. Ravenpaw slashed the badger across its nose before Wrenheart and Willownose pulled its attention away again. Crowpaw stayed with Dusktail while he caught his breath, so Ravenpaw jumped into the fray.

Bravestar was no longer on the badger’s back, and instead was harrying the creature from the ground. While its back was turned, Ravenpaw darted in and swiped ferociously at the hind leg that Dusktail had bit. The badger turned to her, but she saw a blur of black in the corner of her eye. Bravestar and Crowpaw tackled the badger’s side, causing it to stumble. The badger backed up, swinging its head from side to side. The patrol was clearly overwhelming it.

Rage in its eyes, the badger suddenly ran forward, roaring and slashing its huge paws. The cats attacked, Wrenheart going under its belly again, Bravestar slashing its face, and Willownose darting toward its rear. Crowpaw jumped on to the badger’s shoulder and raked his claws down its side. Suddenly the badger lurched, rolling and crushing Crowpaw under its bulk.

“No!” Ravenpaw yowled, jumping forward. The badger snarled as it stood and slammed a paw on Crowpaw’s stunned body. It bent its neck to sink its teeth into the young cat. There was a blur of fur, and suddenly the badger was violently shaking a cat around in its jaws. The scene was exactly like watching the badger shake Mudstripe to death.

Rage bubbled up in Ravenpaw’s stomach as she charged forward, yowling and slashing. The badger dropped the body as the she-cat raked her sharp claws down one side of its face. It roared in pain and stumbled backward, shaking its head. Ravenpaw was relentless, blood roaring in her ears as she kept forcing it back and back. Finally, the badger turned and fled through the forest, crashing through the undergrowth. Ravenpaw tailed it, aware that Wrenheart and Willownose was with her. The she-cats were relentless in their pursuit, and before long they crossed the Clan border. They harried it a little further before finally slowing down, chests heaving after the run.

“I have to go back,” Ravenpaw gasped turning and pelting back toward where the fight was. Her belly twisted with nerves and her heart beat loudly in her ears. Was Crowpaw okay? Could he have possibly survived being whipped around by the badger? Her lungs were close to bursting, burning in her chest, when she finally make it to her father and brother.

Dusktail stood, his expression grim. Ravenpaw’s eyes trailed down and she saw a mangled body, the fallen leaves around it stained dark with blood. A dark tom crouched over the body; green eyes filled with despair.

“Bravestar?” Ravenpaw croaked, approaching hesitantly. Crowpaw looked up.

“Dusktail said he should have another life,” Crowpaw managed to say. Ravenpaw looked down at her father’s body; he looked so small like this. The she-cat crouched beside her brother and they leaned into each other for comfort, waiting. “He saved me.”

_StarClan, please let him have another life!_ Ravenpaw pleaded silently. She didn’t know what she would do without her father.

Time stretched on. Willownose and Wrenheart returned and sat nearby, quietly talking with Dusktail and casting glances over to the small family. Ravenpaw gasped when she saw Bravestar’s shoulder twitch. The tom’s flank began to rise and fall with his breathing, and his green eyes slowly flickered open. They focused on Crowpaw and Ravenpaw.

“Oh good,” he groaned, “you’re both okay.” Bravestar began to slowly stretch and flex his limbs and hauled himself to his paws. Ravenpaw and her brother rushed to support him. “I’m fine,” he chuckled, “but thank you.” The relief that washed over Ravenpaw made her feel like she could fight a dozen more badgers.

“We’ve run it off our territory,” Wrenheart informed her leader, “we chased it a decent way, but we’ll be sure to make sure it continues to stay away.”

Bravestar nodded. “Good, good. Dusktail, work to fill in the sett. I’ll head back to camp.” Dusktail nodded and motioned for Wrenheart and Willownose to help him. “Crowpaw, Ravenpaw, with me.”

The small family made their way back to camp. Bravestar walked by himself, the worst of his injuries healed. His pelt was still messy with his own blood, however, and some injuries still seemed to pain him. Ravenpaw waited back while her father slid through the thorn tunnel into camp first, then followed quickly.

“How’d it go? What happened?” Stagpaw demanded as soon as they came into the camp. Patchsplash was keeping the kits busy, who all turned when the black-furred cats appeared.

“Where’s Willownose?” Pinekit asked, panic edging his mew as he scrambled toward them.

“She’s fine, everyone is fine,” Bravestar assured the young tom, giving his ear a quick lick. He raised his muzzle high. “The badger is gone. The rest of the patrol will be back soon.”

Patchsplash approached his leader and gave him a sniff. “Are you okay? Should I fetch Frostwhisker?”

“No need, I’m already here,” the eldery medicine cat walked stiffly forward and gave Bravestar a once-over.

“ _Well_?” Stagpaw prodded Crowpaw and Ravenpaw, eyes shining. Crowpaw began to narrate the tale, Ravenpaw watching as their denmate’s reactions kept switching from awe to jealously and back again.

“Oh, oh, was it like this?” Aspenkit tried to wiggle under Sandkit’s belly and started batting at his legs.

“No, no, like this!” Slatekit threw herself also under Sandkit, the tom kit losing his balance and tumbling to the ground with a squeak. All the kits began to excitedly try to act out what they thought the badger fight looked like, eventually dragging Ravenpaw and her brother into playing the role of the badger. They entertained the kits until the rest of the patrol arrived.

“Willownose!” Pinekit cried, rushing over and rubbing against her. “I was so worried!”

The silver tabby purred and gave her son a few reassuring licks. “Didn’t Bravestar and the others tell you I was okay?” she asked.

Pinekit kneaded the ground anxiously. “Yeah, but still,” he mumbled. The other kits bounded over and welcomed their foster mother back as well. Bravestar bounded up to the Highledge and yowled to gather his Clan.

“We are free from the badger!” He announced, and the Clan yowled in triumph. “We will still be cautious in the coming days, but I am certain that life will return to normal before we know it. Every cat fought bravely, and the skills of our apprentices show they will be noble warriors when their time comes.” Bravestar beamed with pride as he passed his eyes over his kits. Ravenpaw puffed out her chest, certain that it can’t be too long before she earned her warrior name.

* * *

The warm sun beamed onto Ravenpaw’s pelt, turning it dark brown as she leaned over the creek and drank deeply. The apprentice was enjoying the freedom of hunting alone again. The breeze carried the scent of heather from WindClan’s territory, and Ravenpaw inhaled it in.

“ _Psst_!”

Ravenpaw jolted, startled, and looked around for the source of the noise.

“Ravenpaw, over here!”

Frowning, Ravenpaw cast her gaze around. “Sunpaw?” she asked hesitantly.

“Under the tree, to your left!” the WindClan apprentice’s voice urged her. Ravenpaw eventually spotted Sunpaw’s pale green eyes peering from between the roots of a tree.

“What are you _doing_ under there?” She hissed. The tom was on ThunderClan territory!

“Come join me!” he urged, his claws scraping away at some dirt to make a hole big enough for a cat to crawl through. Ravenpaw looked around hesitantly, then helped him dig. Soon the hole under the tree was big enough for her to squeeze under.

“How did you even get-” she started, then gasped. It was dark under here, but bright enough from the light outside that Ravenpaw could see a tunnel twisting down and into the dark.

“Surprise!” Sunpaw purred, brushing his pelt against hers. “I chased a rabbit down a hole a while back and found a whole network of tunnels under the territory!” he jumped down the tunnel a few tail-lengths. “Most paths are blocked off, but I eventually found this one, it leads perfectly under the river. Now we don’t have to separated when we visit.”

“Wow,” Ravenpaw breathed, Sunpaw’s relaxed demeanor keeping her calm in the tight tunnel.

“There’s more room down this way, come on.” Sunpaw led Ravenpaw down the tunnel, using roots as steps until they were too far down and began to use cold stones. The tunnel eventually opened up into a bigger area, Ravenpaw’s eyes straining to see in the darkness. The light from the entrance tunnel was too far, and the apprentice felt her pulse quicken in fear.

“So, how’s life in ThunderClan?” Sunpaw’s calm meow pulled Ravenpaw’s attention to him. She sensed the tom not far from her.

“We chased off the badger,” she informed the yellow tom.

“Oh, that’s great!” Sunpaw meowed. “Is everybody okay?”

Ravenpaw found herself nearly telling Sunpaw about Bravestar’s lost life before remembering that information like that shouldn’t be going to a rival Clan. “Everyone’s fine, just a little bruised is all. Nothing we won’t recover from.”

Sunpaw purred. “I’m happy for you. Now that it’s safe we can see each other more.” Ravenpaw felt a purr rumble in her own throat. She really liked Sunpaw and his bright disposition; it distracted her from her somber reality for a little while. Plus, meeting him wasn’t hurting anyone.

“I’ve got some news too,” the WindClan cat meowed. Ravenpaw smelled the fresh scent of his fur come closer to her. “My warrior assessment should be soon.”

Ravenpaw gasped. “Oh, that’s amazing! How do you know?”

Sunpaw sat next to her and she felt him shrug. “I overheard mine and my littermate’s mentors talking, and they seem to think we’re ready. But also because of kits.”

Ravenpaw flicked an ear. “What do you mean, kits?”

“Cloudskipper’s mate Amberpool is in the nursery, and I think he doesn’t want an apprentice when the kits are born so he can give them all his attention, because y’know, I’m _so_ much work to train,” Sunpaw joked. “Plus I think Spottedbelly might be moving to the nursery soon too, so Scrubpaw would have to be given to someone else to train…”

Ravenpaw relaxed as she listened to the latest gossip from Sunpaw’s Clan. It was soothing to listen to him talk, and interesting to hear about life outside of ThunderClan. Eventually Sunpaw stood up and stretched.

“Well, I should be getting back,” he meowed regretfully.

“Already?” The word came out before Ravenpaw could stop it. She heard Sunpaw purr and his muzzle brushed against her cheek.

“I’ll probably see you at the next Gathering; I’ll be busy getting ready for my assessment so I don’t think I can come see you until after. But hopefully next time you see me I’ll be a warrior!”

The apprentices said farewell and Ravenpaw listened as Sunpaw’s footsteps faded away into the depths of the tunnel. She sat for a moment, detecting the tom’s scent linger. She retraced her steps back up to the surface and crawled from under the tree. After a moment of thought, Ravenpaw arranged a nearby bush to hide the freshly clawed entrance to her and Sunpaw’s secret tunnel. The she-cat made her way back to camp, stopping to retrieve the fresh-kill from her earlier hunting, feeling very content with how her life was going.


	13. Moving Up

Ravenpaw dozed in the light of the hot greenleaf sun, her muscles soft and her body lethargic with the heat. The kits were also napping, worn out after a morning of playing games. Half of the Clan was out, hunting or just wandering the territory in the good weather. Poppylark was watching over the kits, and Bravestar slowly ate a plump mouse. The sun shining on the leader’s pelt turned it brown.

Soft pawsteps indicated that someone was approaching, so Ravenpaw flicked open her yellow eyes to check.

“I need some help gathering herbs,” Frostwhisker grunted. His fur carried the stale, sickly scent of the elder’s den. Snakefang wasn’t getting better.

“Of course,” Ravenpaw responded, standing and fully stretching before padding after the medicine cat. They walked in silence though the warm forest, the shade keeping the worst of the heat at bay.

“What do you think of Stormkit?” The old white tom suddenly asked.

“Stormkit?” Ravenpaw echoed. “Uh, he’s nice. The calmest of the bunch, for sure.”

“Hm,” Frostwhisker responded, not saying any more.

“Are you thinking of taking him as your apprentice?” Ravenpaw pressed, eager.

“Are you so excited to not have to deal with me?” the tom grumbled. Ravenpaw rolled her eyes.

“I’m not put off by you anymore,” Ravenpaw snorted, “I know you don’t actually think like that.”

Frostwhisker’s throat rumbled with a rough purr. “I remember when apprentices used to be afraid of me,” he reminisced.

“That was probably back when apprentices had more options of cats to talk to,” Ravenpaw chided. “Don’t worry, if I cat doesn’t know you too well, they’re still very intimidated by you.”

The old medicine cat pushed his head gently against Ravenpaw’s shoulder with affection then continued to plod onward.

“I miss Minnowpelt,” he sighed, stopping at a plant and beginning to gently pluck at its leaves. “Do you remember her?”

“Not well,” Ravenpaw admitted. She had only been a few moons old when the medicine cat apprentice succumbed to the dreadful illness that had been ravaging her Clanmates. But she did know that the she-cat had helped Nightbriar to kit her and her brother.

“You know she was Willownose’s littermate?”

“I did,” the queen spoke of Minnowpelt foldly to her son, and to Crowpaw and Ravenpaw back when they were in the nursery.

“I had hoped maybe Pinekit would show an aptitude for healing,” Frostwhisker meowed, “so at least I could work with Minnowpelt’s kin before I retired. Alas,” the tom bundled up the herbs he’d collected and indicated for Ravenpaw to carry them, “his path is to be a warrior.” Ravenpaw couldn’t respond with her mouth full, so she just waited for the tom to continue. “Who would have thought,” he murmured, “that StarClan would want a kittypet as their envoy to the Clans.”

“Why does that matter though?” Ravenpaw couldn’t help but drop the herbs to question the medicine cat.

Frostwhisker flicked an ear at her. “It’s odd,” he stated.

“Is it?” Ravenpaw suddenly felt very defensive about the topic. “Aren’t kittypets just as good as Clan cats, as long as they’re trained and treated the same way?”

“Why does this matter so much to you?” the tom’s tail lashed.

“It- it just does, okay?” Ravenpaw stammered. “I mean, I brought those kits to the Clan, so-”

Frostwhisker suddenly got very close. “What do you know?” He asked quietly.

“I-” the she-cat’s mind whirled. What should she say? She sighed. “I know that Bravestar’s mother was a kittypet,” she said meekly.

“Who told you that?” Frostwhisker demanded sharply.

“I just- I overheard it somewhere.”

“Where?”

“I don’t remember. A Gathering I think?”

Frostwhisker looked at Ravenpaw critically.

“Why does it matter how I know?” she demanded.

“After Bravestar’s mother abandoned the Clan,” the tom started slowly, “his father made sure no one mentioned her again. I’m not even sure if anyone younger than your father even knows she existed. And if they do, they don’t talk about it.” Frostwhisker’s gold eyes scanned Ravenpaw up and down. “Are you _sure_ you heard it at a Gathering?”

“Probably,” the apprentice lied.

Frostwhisker gave Ravenpaw a long look, then shrugged and kept walking. He gave no indication whether or not he actually believed the apprentice, which made her nervous. She hoped he wouldn’t mention this conversation to anyone.

They continued to move around the territory, stopping occasionally to collect herbs. As the sun began to get lower in the sky, the two cats made their way back to camp, Ravenpaw keeping her pace slow for the old tom. As they neared the thorn tunnel, frantic meowing could be heard inside the camp. Ravenpaw exchanged looks with Frostwhisker, who jerked his chin forward to indicate that she should run ahead. Ravenpaw did, depositing her herb bundle at Frostwhisker’s paws before she pelted off.

She skidded into camp to find Willownose frantically casting her gaze across camp, her tail puffed in fear. Ravenpaw saw Poppylark sitting in front of the nursery, the curious gazes of Aspenkit, Burnkit, Rosekit, Stormkit, and Pinekit behind her.

“Where have they _gone_?” Willownose wailed. Bravestar stood next to her, his shoulder pressed to hers, trying to calm her down.

Ravenpaw scanned the camp, seeing some small pebbles tumbling down the wall of the gorge. Her eyes followed the path of the pebbles upward, and she spotted a tiny set of ears. “There!” she called, jumping over to Willownose and pointing with her tail.

Willownose followed where Ravenpaw was looking and gasped. “How did you get up there?” she yowled.

Upon discovery, the kits carefully crawled out from behind the jutting rock they were hiding behind, having squished themselves into a crack in the cliff wall. Sandkit, Slatekit, and Honeykit were only a fox-length or so from the top ridge of the camp. Ravenpaw squinted, eventually locating several small cracks and ledges that a smaller, lighter cat could maneuver. She wasn’t sure any of the apprentices were small enough to follow the kits up there.

“We can see _everything_ from up here!” Sandkit proclaimed, padding to the edge of the little platform he and his littermates were on. His dark ears were perked high, his blue eyes bright and shining.

“Stop hogging the view!” Honeykit squealed, pushing past her brother. Ravenpaw inhaled sharply as Sandkit nearly lost his balance. Honeykit clawed her way on top of the jutting rock, her tiny claws leaving white scratches on the stone’s surface.

“Please come down!” Willownose called.

“Ravenpaw, over there,” Bravestar motioned toward the cliff wall. His sharp eyes had found the kits’ path up, where their little claw marks could be seen.

Ravenpaw dashed over to the wall and began to carefully climb her way up. Her claws quickly began to ache with the effort of keeping her body close to the rock face.

“ _Honeykit, look out!_ ” Willownose’s screech chilled Ravenpaw’s bones. She craned her neck to look back toward the kits. Time seemed to more painfully slowly as a huge bird was flying toward the small kit, its deadly talons outstretched. It snatched Honeykit up and she wailed in terror. The hawk’s red eyes glinted menacingly as it pushed its wings down with a powerful stroke. It was too high off the ground for any cat to even try to jump up and stop it. As it climbed a tail-length into the air from where it snatched Honeykit, a black blur launched itself from the woods above the camp and straight toward the hawk. It collided with the bird, and it, the bird, and Honeykit went tumbling into the stone hollow.

Stagpaw burst into camp with Patchsplash on his heels, Frostwhisker slowly limping in afterwards with his herb bundle. Willownose and Bravestar jumped toward the tangle of creatures that had landed on the ground. Willownose pulled the limp form of Honeykit out of the pile, the small kit coughing weakly.

_Thank StarClan she’s alive!_ Ravenpaw thought with a rush.

The hawk squalled and flapped, but Bravestar and the other dark-furred cat were keeping it down, clawing and biting savagely at the bird-of-prey’s neck. After a brief struggle the hawk fell limp, and the cats stepped back.

“Crowpaw!” Ravenpaw yowled, seeing her brother stagger away from the hawk. His right ear was partially shredded, one eye was closed, and his sides heaved with his gasping breath. Bravestar, also wounded slightly from wrestling the bird, nuzzled Crowpaw and looked over him with concern. Thundering pawsteps from outside of camp announced the arrival of Dusktail and Wrenheart. Ravenpaw clambered up to a narrow ledge and crouched there to give her aching claws a break.

“What happened?” Wrenheart asked, looking at the dead hawk with a bewildered expression. Frostwhisker tended to Honeykit under Willownose’s anxious gaze.

“Crowpaw just saved Honeykit’s life,” Bravestar stated, licking Crowpaw’s face. The apprentice tried to duck away, embarrassed.

“Ravenpaw, why are you up there?” Dusktail called, frowning, but then his gaze traveled over to the terrified forms of Sandkit and Slatekit. After the excitement on the ground settled down a bit, Ravenpaw continued her painful climb upward. Sandkit and Slatekit managed to clumsily come down from their platform and meet Ravenpaw partway, who brought them one by one to the camp floor on her back. She landed and Sandkit tumbled from her back, scrambling over to his littermates, and then Ravenpaw made her way over to Crowpaw.

“Are you okay?” she whispered.

“Yeah, the hawk broke my fall,” her brother joked, wincing as Frostwhisker applied a paste to his torn ear. The apprentices glanced over at the dead hawk, where the kits were staring at it with huge eyes.

“Crowpaw,” a weak voice meowed, and the littermates turned to see Honeykit standing between Willownose’s front legs, “you saved my life!” Her voice was weak from coughing, and she seemed to be shaking a little, but otherwise seemed unharmed. Her eyes were big with admiration.

“Yes he did,” Bravestar murmured, then turned and jumped on to the Highledge. The black tom raised his voice and called for his Clan’s attention. “It is with great pride that today I will name two new warriors into ThunderClan’s ranks!” Ravenpaw felt her stomach flip and exchanged a look of wonder with Crowpaw. Bravestar looked at them and beckoned them forward with his tail. Ravenpaw looked over at Patchsplash, who nodded at her, pride lighting up his face. Dusktail briefly placed his tail on Crowpaw’s shoulder before his apprentice moved away.

“Crowpaw, you have shown an aptitude for making quick decisions when needed, and you have proved yourself to be an impressive athlete. From this day you will be known as Crowhop!” Ravenpaw looked over at her brother, who puffed his white chest out proudly.

“Ravenpaw,” Bravestar’s call pulled her attention back to her father, “you have worked hard to hone your skills, and your contribution to the well-being of your Clan has been invaluable. From now on you will be known by your warrior name of Ravenstrike!”

“Crowhop! Ravenstrike! Crowhop! Ravenstrike!”

Ravenstrike exchanged glances with Crowhop, pride swelling in her chest. Their Clanmates came over to congratulate them. The Gathering was only a couple nights away, and Ravenstrike was excited to share her new name with Sunpaw.

* * *

The full moon illuminated the ThunderClan cat’s pelts with a silvery sheen as they passed along the open stretch of land along the lake. Ravenstrike padded next to Crowhop, their fur immaculately groomed and shining.

They moved onward until they could see the Gathering island and padded single file across the fallen log that led to it. RiverClan and WindClan scents indicated that they were already here. Ravenstrike watched Patchsplash peel off with Frostwhisker, the senior warrior helping his brother find the other medicine cats. Frostwhisker hadn’t been doing too well recently but insisted on coming tonight anyway.

Ravenstrike saw Nettlenose sitting with a white tom with black spots, a pale brown WindClan tom, and three smaller cats. She padded over and greeted the group.

“Hi Nettlenose, who is this?” she inquired, blinking warmly at the blue and white tom next to the young warrior.

“This is Puddlepaw, my apprentice,” Nettlenose purred, “Pebblepelt is mentoring his brother, Rainpaw.” She nodded to the white tom who sat with a mottled black and blue apprentice.

“We were just introducing the apprentices to each other,” the WindClan tom meowed, nodding to the grey and white she-cat with him.

“Hi, I’m Birdpaw,” the little cat chirped, her blue eyes wide with excitement, “my brother’s here too, Mousepaw, he’s Moorstalker’s apprentice.” She sounded proud that her littermate was the deputy’s apprentice.

“Yeah, Applepaw got Cherryspots as her mentor,” Puddlepaw muttered, clearly not as supportive of his littermate as Birdpaw was of hers. Nettlenose shot him a look.

“Well congratulations,” Ravenstrike told the new mentors. “Have you seen Sunpaw yet?”

Nettlenose shot Ravenstrike a wry look. “No, I haven’t seen Sun _paw_ anywhere.” She flicked her ears over toward a small group of cats, among them a familiar yellow pelt.

Ravenstrike laughed. “Thanks!” she called, bounding over to the other group of cats.

“… hopefully we won’t be seeing it near our territory again anytime soon,” a brown RiverClan tom was saying.

“We’ve dealt with a couple dogs on WindClan territory, but we normally outrun them,” Dawnpaw meowed, then shuddered. “I can’t imagine having to face one like that.”

“Oh, hey Ravenpaw!” Sunpaw’s green eyes were on Ravenstrike’s form, glittering with excitement.

“Ravenpaw isn’t my name,” she meowed playfully.

“Oh, that’s awesome!” Sunpaw jumped forward and touched noses briefly with Ravenstrike. Dawnpaw narrowed her eyes. “I’m Sunheart now, and my sister is Dawnwing.”

“Ravenstrike,” the ThunderClan she-cat announced, then waved her tail toward her brother, “and he’s Crowhop.”

“Scrubpelt’s around here somewhere,” Sunheart looked around the clearing in time to see ShadowClan streaming among the crowd. Ravenstrike saw Stagpaw jump over to greet the ShadowClan apprentices. The brown RiverClan tom excused himself and padded over to greet the ShadowClan warriors. Ravenstrike chatted with Sunheart and Dawnwing until the leaders called the Gathering to start.

Ashstar strode forward immediately. “It is with a heavy heart that I must announce Mudstripe was killed… By ThunderClan’s badger,” he shot a look to Bravestar. The gathered cats began murmuring amongst themselves. Ravenstrike saw her father bristle ever so slightly.

“The badger is gone now,” Dusktail’s voice echoed around the clearing as he jumped to his paws and spat at the ShadowClan leader’s words, “we decided it was time to drive it out since not all Clan cats seemed to think it was enough of a threat to avoid.” Ravenstrike was shocked by the deputy’s outburst and saw Bravestar’s mouth move in a quiet hiss to the other tom.

Ashstar snarled. “What are you implying? Are you speaking ill of our dead?”

Heatherstar stood forward, interposing herself between the bristling toms. “We are very sorry for your loss, Ashstar. Mudstripe was a noble warrior.” Ashstar lashed his tail and sat back down. Bravestar tore his gaze off the other leader and raised his chin high.

“Along with driving out the badger with no losses,” he lied slightly, “I am proud to announce two new warriors to ThunderClan. Please welcome Ravenstrike and Crowhop!” The assembled cats tried to shake off the tension and yowled their names to the stars.

Heatherstar looked pleased and stepped forward. “We also have new warriors to accounce. Dawnwing, Sunheart, and Scrubpelt! Also two new apprentices, Birdpaw and Mousepaw!” The assembled cats called out the many WindClan names, and air in the clearing brightening even more after Ashstar and Dusktail’s spat.

“RiverClan would also like to welcome Rainpaw, Puddlepaw, and Applepaw to their first Gathering as new apprentices,” Silverstar announced, not to be outdone. She shot a smug look toward Ashstar.

_I wonder what that’s about?_ Wondered Ravenstrike. Soon the Gathering ended, and the Clan cats began to slowly end their conversations and move back towards their kin and Clanmates.

“Excuse me, you’re one of the new ThunderClan warriors, right?” Ravenstrike turned to find the brown RiverClan tom she’d seen earlier looking at her with an amber gaze.

“Yes, I’m Ravenstrike, and you are?” the she-cat dipped her head to the tom.

“Otterclaw,” he introduced himself, “if you don’t mind my asking, have you maybe seen Splitface when out on patrol? She’s a tortoiseshell ShadowClan warrior.”

Ravenstrike blinked. She now remembered seeing Splitface speaking with this tom at a previous Gathering. “I know Splitface,” she wondered how much to say. “Actually, she was with Mudstripe when he died.”

Otterclaw looked alarmed. “Is she okay?”

“Yes, she escaped unharmed if I remember correctly,” Ravenstrike informed him. She tilted her head. “Perhaps she’s not here tonight because she’s still mourning him?”

“Oh, yeah, maybe,” the tom mumbled.

“Why can’t you ask her Clanmates about her?” the black-furred she-cat motioned toward ShadowClan with her tail. Otterclaw was already shaking his head.

“Most ShadowClan cats don’t like inter-Clan friendships,” he muttered, his brow furrowed over his amber eyes. He suddenly closed his eyes and quickly shook his head. “Well, thank you for the information. Er, if you see her could you tell her I say hi? And that I hope she’s doing well?”

“Of course,” Ravenstrike blinked, and nodded a farewell to the RiverClan warrior. As she padded toward her Clan, she felt a light touch on her spine and Sunheart’s scent wafted over her.

“See you in our tunnel later?” he murmured quietly. Ravenstrike purred in agreement, and the WindClan tom bounded off. The she-cat turned to see Crowhop watching her closely.

“You are Sunheart are really close,” her brother observed, his tone guarded.

“Is that a problem?” Ravenstrike retorted defensively, hackles raising slightly. When Crowhop opened his mouth to speak again, she interrupted him. “There’s no tensions between our Clans, it’s not like we’re sharing secrets, and sometimes it’s nice to talk to someone who doesn’t know about everything you’ve ever done.”

Crowhop looked at his paws, looking troubled. “I just don’t want you getting hurt, okay?”

Ravenstrike smoothed her fur and nuzzled her brother’s cheek. “Sorry, I know you’re just looking out for me. But don’t worry, Sunheart would never hurt me.”

“I hope not,” Crowhop whispered, not seeming to be convinced.


	14. Clan Life Continues

Ravenstrike emerged from the warrior’s den as the sun began to brighten the sky. A sharp chill was in the air, and a thin layer of frost coated the leaves in the camp. Her golden gaze traveled over to the center of the clearing where Poppylark, Dusktail, Patchsplash, and Bravestar huddled around the thin body of Snakefang. The elder had finally succumbed to his illness the previous day, and the Clan was mourning the first death since leaf-bare. Frostwhisker, whose own condition had been improving, was looking thin and ragged again.

“I’m impressed you’re up before me,” the soft meow of Wrenheart reached Ravenstrike’s ears. The beautiful white-and-grey she-cat looked at her mate with sad blue eyes. Snakefang was kin to Dusktail, who now only had his son and mate left.

“I slept light,” Ravenstrike said, moving out of the den entrance. In truth, she’d trained with Snowflurry last night, who started to intensify their training now that she was a warrior.

Wrenheart and Ravenstrike shared tongues until Crowhop and Stagthorn – very recently a having earned his warrior name – also emerged from the den, their pelts messy with sleep. The warriors paid their last respects to Snakefang, Wrenheart also nuzzling Dusktail’s cheek, and the group of cats went off on the dawn patrol.

The forest slowly came alive as they moved through it, and the powerful greenleaf sun made quick work of the night’s frost. Wrenheart led them along WindClan’s border first, then up and around toward the former badger sett. A check of the area showed that it had not returned. As they neared the ShadowClan border, the patrol heard the scream of a grouse and saw a commotion not far off.

“Mouse dung!” a young voice spat angrily. Wrenheart lifted her tail and motioned toward the voice. They moved forward carefully to find a young black-furred tom glaring angrily in the direction the bird had gone.

“What are you doing over ThunderClan’s border?” Stagthorn snarled, his hackles raising. The young ShadowClan cat jumped, and his orange eyes widened in fear.

“I’m not-!” he started to say, then his face fell in dismay. “Oh, I’m so sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry!”

“Bugpaw!” a female voice called, and a familiar tortoiseshell emerged from the undergrowth. “How many times have I told you that even when hunting you need to be aware of your surroundings?” Splitface turned toward the ThunderClan patrol and dipped her head. “I’m sorry for him, he’s still learning.”

Wrenheart regarded the apprentice coolly. “Hopefully he learns quick – and also to leave another Clan’s territory.” Bugpaw gasped and jumped backward across the border. Splitface gave him a soft box across the ears that Ravenstrike suspected was just for show.

“We’ll be on our way,” the ShadowClan warrior said smoothly, dipping her head to the ThunderClan patrol and using her tail to send Bugpaw ahead of her.

“Wait,” Ravenstrike stepped forward. Splitface looked back at her, puzzled, as did Wrenheart and the rest of the patrol. “Uh, I’ll catch up,” she told the white-and-grey she-cat, who shrugged and jerked her head to get Crowhop and Stagthorn to join her. Ravenstrike opened her mouth to talk to Splitface, but then noticed Bugpaw sitting there, staring at her with wide orange eyes. Splitface followed Ravenstrike’s gaze.

“Start heading back to camp,” she ordered the apprentice, flicking her tail across his nose, “but _don’t_ get there empty-pawed.”

“Oh, um, yes, okay Splitface!” Bugpaw shook out his pelt, gave Ravenstrike one last look, then bounded away. The she-cats watched him leave, then Splitface turned to look pointedly at the ThunderClan warrior.

“What do you want?” she asked dully, eyes drifting away as she started to wash one of her front paws.

“Uh, at the last Gathering, I was talking to a RiverClan tom, Otterclaw?” At the mention of the tom’s name, Splitface’s pupils narrowed and dark green eyes snapped to Ravenstrike’s face. “He just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m perfectly fine,” Splitface snapped, her body tensing. After a moment, she closed her eyes and seemed to relax. “If you see him again, just tell him I’m fine and I won’t be at Gatherings for a while.” The she-cat began to turn and walk away.

“Why?” Ravenstrike asked before she could stop herself. Splitface twitched her head quickly toward her, and she felt in her fur that she was about to be reprimanded for being nosy. Instead, Splitface seemed deep in thought.

“I’m expecting Mudstripe’s kits,” she meowed flatly, then disappeared into the underbrush.

Ravenstrike stayed where she was, trying to figure the she-cat out. She didn’t seem incredibly torn up about Mudstripe’s death last moon, but perhaps it was just shock? And her lack of enthusiasm could just be because she was sad about having to raise the kits alone.

The she-cat shook her head to clear it; she could think about this stuff later. She bounded off through the forest to catch up to her border patrol.

* * *

The kits sat wiggling with excitement, their pelts immaculate and Willownose pacing around them, licking down any stray tufts of fur on their bodies. They had all grown so much since newleaf, growing tall and lean, their fur losing its kitten fluffiness and beginning to grow in smooth and thick. Bravestar had decided to slightly delay Pinekit’s apprenticeship and appoint the kittypet kits to mentors a partial moon early. No one objected, and it meant that Pinekit wouldn’t be sleeping without his adopted littermates, all by himself.

Pinepaw was apprenticed to Dusktail, and Wrenheart got Sandpaw. Hopefully the gentle she-cat could curb some of the young tom’s aggressive and competitive nature, while Dusktail would instill more confidence in his Clan-born apprentice. Bravestar himself took on Honeypaw, and the leader would be working closely with Frostwhisker to monitor the she-cat’s health. Even moons after the fire, she still got winded easily and was prone to coughing fits.

Ravenstrike’s chest filled with pride as she was called forward to mentor the newly named Rosepaw. She knew that she was only a mentor so early because of her Clan’s unfortunate circumstances, but even so, the senior warriors could have tried to work together to train all the apprentices together instead of entrusting them to the newest in the ranks.

Rosepaw blinked at her, her blue eyes bright but concerned. Ravenstrike touched noses with the young she-cat. The black cat led her apprentice to the side and watched as Crowhop was assigned to train Burnpaw, and Stagthorn was given Aspenpaw.

Finally, Frostwhisker limped forward, his skin hanging loosely off his frame, and his golden eyes rheumy with age. Stormkit was given his new name, and Frostwhisker accepted the tom as his apprentice. Stormpaw faced the old tom with a determined look on his face, but his stiff tail indicating his slight fear of his new role and mentor.

“Where are we going first?” Burnpaw danced around Crowhop, his eyes brimming with excitement. The tom had a large bald spot on his haunch still, and some other patches of fur missing that would likely never grow back, but in spite of that his attitude was chipper and he didn’t let his injuries hinder his life in any way. His short tail stuck up as he waited for Crowhop’s response.

“Er,” the tom hesitated and looked over to Ravenstrike.

“How about we go down to the lake, then practice some hunting moves while we move up and explore the forest behind the camp?” she suggested. The new mentors were instructed not to take any of the former kittypets along the border yet. At first Ravenstrike thought it was because they were apprenticed early according to the warrior code but realized later it might be that the other Clans would speculate their origin. Bravestar likely wanted to be the one to make sure there were no negative rumors regarding his Clan’s newest apprentice crop.

“That sounds like a wonderful plan,” a rough purring voice commented. Ravenstrike turned to see Patchsplash with Slatepaw at his side. “Do you mind if we join you?”

“Not at all,” Ravenstrike purred, happy to see her old mentor with such a promising apprentice as Slatepaw, and began to lead the group toward the thorn tunnel leading out of camp.

“Wait up!” A small voice cried. Honeypaw bounded up. “Bravestar said to ask if I could go with you, Patchsplash.”

“Sure,” the old tom responded, flicking his ears. Honeypaw purred happily and padded forward.

“Can I walk beside you, Crowhop?” she asked, looking at the warrior with big eyes.

“Uh, sure,” Crowhop looked away and shuffled his paws. Honeypaw had been looking for any way to spend time with the tom ever since he saved her from the hawk, and Crowhop was at a loss with how to handle her attention.

The cats left the camp and headed toward the lake. Ravenstrike noticed that Rosepaw had shrunk in on herself a little and was glancing around the towering forest in fear. She laid her tail across the apprentice’s shoulders to try and reassure her. Rosepaw blinked at her gratefully.

They continued at an easy pace, mindful of the apprentices’ lack of stamina and Honeypaw’s breathing. Even so, the young cats were struggling over fallen logs and panting by the time they reached the Sky Oak. Ravenstrike fondly remembered coming here on her first day as an apprentice.

“Oh, wow!” Burnpaw balanced on a stump, his short tail twitching wildly to help him keep his balance.

“It’s beautiful!” Slatepaw stretched her neck up to get a look at the lake.

“It’s huge!” Rosepaw squeaked.

“I want to touch it!” Honeypaw darted forward. “Bet I can get there first!”

“Hey, no fair!” Burnpaw jumped clumsily down from his stump and pelted after his sister. Slatepaw followed suite, and Rosepaw brought up the rear more cautiously.

“Don’t fall in!” Crowhop called fretfully. The warriors followed and watched the apprentices reach the lake. Burnpaw crouched at the edge, his eyes huge, watching the water. He tentatively reached forward a paw and patted at the tiny waves. Slatepaw got a mischievous look on her face and pounced into the water, spraying her brother.

“Hey!” Burnpaw protested, backing away.

“Oh sorry, I was just pouncing on a little fish I saw!” his sister meowed innocently, mischief sparkling in her eyes. Burnpaw growled playfully and lunged at Slatepaw, and the two began to play wrestle in the shallows. Honeypaw and Rosepaw stood nearby, their paws just barely submerged, squealing in protest when their siblings splashed them with water.

“They’re… They’re playing in the water,” Ravenstrike stared at the young cats, dumbfounded. Crowhop also watched, his mouth hung open.

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Patchsplash purred, shaking his head.

“Do you suppose they have RiverClan blood in them somewhere?” Ravenstrike mused as the apprentices emerged from the lake shallows, shaking water from their pelts.

“That feels really good,” Slatepaw meowed, “it makes the sunhigh heat tolerable!”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Crowhop muttered, unconvinced.

“Now that we’ve had our fun, how about we learn some hunting techniques?” Patchsplash suggested. Immediately each apprentice stood at attention, looking at the old tom with anticipation. “Ravenstrike, how about you show them?”

Ravenstrike’s chest burst with pride as her former mentor suggested she teach the apprentices. “Okay,” she meowed, stepping forward, “I want to see everyone’s best hunting crouch. Burnpaw, how about you start us off?”

Burnpaw nodded excitedly, then dropped into a crouch. All the kits had been trying to practice in the camp and were clearly excited to show off what they’d been doing so far. Burnpaw was the stockiest of his littermates, and as he moved his belly fur brushed the ground.

“Pretty good, but try to keep a little higher, or the prey will hear you brushing against leaves and such” Ravenstrike meowed, tapping his belly a little with her paw. The apprentice lifted himself higher, then stalked around again. He was quickly grunting with exertion.

“It’s really hard to stay crouched like that,” he complained.

“That’s why you need to keep practicing,” Ravenstrike purred, “soon you’ll build up the strength in your legs and crouching like that will become second nature. Keep going, while I assess the others.”

Burnpaw continued while Ravenstrike corrected the forms of the other apprentices. Rosepaw worked on not letting her tail drag and swish along the ground, and Honeypaw was instructed to not move too quickly, and rely on the forest’s undergrowth for cover from her prey’s sight. By the time she got to Slatepaw, the she-cat had taken the advice given to her littermates and executed a nearly perfect stalking crouch.

“Wonderful!” Ravenstrike praised, and in response Slatepaw made a celebratory jump in the air, twisting her tail and landing gracefully. “Maybe some of you will be able to use your new skills before the day is done.” The apprentices exchanged excited glances with each other.

The group of cats made their way to the woods behind ThunderClan’s camp. Crowhop instructed the apprentices on how best to maneuver the forest floor, and soon had them racing and weaving through the undergrowth, Honeypaw doing her best not to get too far from Crowhop. Ravenstrike sent the apprentices off to try and track down some prey and sat with Patchsplash while Crowhop snuck around to watch them.

“I hope you don’t mind if I have you train Slatepaw sometimes,” the old tom meowed gruffly to Ravenstrike, “as leaf-bare gets closer, I feel my age more.”

Ravenstrike looked sadly at her old mentor. He should be retired to the elder’s den by now, resting well after a lifetime in service to the Clan. “Of course,” she murmured quietly, giving his shoulder some reassuring licks.

“Patchsplash! Ravenstrike! Look!” loud voices announced the approach of the apprentices. Honeypaw and Burnpaw charged ahead, followed closely by Slatepaw who was carrying a mouse in her jaws. Her dark blue eyes glittered with pride, and her posture was full of confidence.

“Great catch!” Patchsplash purred, standing and regarding his apprentice with an approving look.

“I found it,” Burnpaw interjected, “but it must have seen me ‘cause it started running away and that’s when Slatepaw pounced on it and killed it,” the words tumbled out of the young tom’s mouth.

“It _smelled_ you mouse brain,” Honeypaw snorted, “the wind was blowing your stinky fur scent right towards it.”

Burnpaw bristled. “I don’t have stinky fur, badger breath!” He jumped on his sister and they began to tussle on the forest floor.

“ _Ahem,_ ” Patchsplash cleared his throat, looking at the apprentices, “you aren’t kits anymore, you can’t just break out into a play-fight any time you want,” he lectured. Abashed, the apprentices stopped and sat stiffly, muttering apologies. Honeypaw coughed a few times. They were flicking leaves out of their pelts when Crowhop came up to the group, Rosepaw trailing sullenly behind him.

Ravenstrike frowned, looking between the two cats. “What’s wrong?”

“Rosepaw decided to take a break from training,” Crowhop responded, “I found her laying in a patch of sunshine.”

“I’m tired!” Rosepaw complained.

Ravenstrike flicked an ear. “You can’t just take a break whenever, Rosepaw,” she lectured, then noticed Patchsplash looking at her expectantly. “So, er, before you eat you have to make sure Poppylark is fully taken care of. She should be fed, free of ticks, and anything like that, understand?”

“Uuuugghhh!” Rosepaw groaned, stomping past her mentor, scowling. Honeypaw shot a sympathetic glance at Ravenstrike and hurried after her sister. Burnpaw rolled his eyes.

“You’ve got your paws full with that one,” Patchsplash whispered, eyes glinting with amusement. He raised his voice, “come on, Slatepaw, I think Willownose would be happy to have that mouse, don’t you?” Slatepaw nodded excitedly and began to trot back to camp.

“We’ll help each other out, yeah?” Crowhop murmured to Ravenstrike as they padded after the rest of the group.

“Of course,” she purred, “we’ll always have each other’s backs.”

* * *

“You’re ready,” Snowflurry announced, her chin held high.

“Ready for what?” Ravenstrike asked, breathing heavily. A full moon hid behind a thick cloud cover, cancelling the Gathering, and forced Ravenstrike to rely more on her hearing and sense of smell to fight in the darkness. Sometimes the clouds would thin and grant her eyes a respite.

“Ready for the final step of your training,” Snowflurry purred. Her emerald eyes suddenly narrowed, intense. She was focused. “Where is the most vulnerable part of a cat?”

Ravenstrike tilted her head to the side. “Vulnerable how?” she asked, “I mean, you have to be careful with your tail because-”

Snowflurry shook her head quickly, “no, not like that. Where would you strike if you wanted to kill your opponent?”

“Kill?” Ravenstrike echoed, “the warrior code says we don’t need to kill to win battles.”

Snowflurry snorted. “And what about cats outside of the warrior code?” she sneered.

Ravenstrike screwed up her face, thinking. “Well, it doesn’t matter,” she answered slowly, “because that’s what makes us different from them.” She puffed out her chest. “We’re honourable, no matter if you live with our rules or not.”

“Don’t think so black and white,” Snowflurry hissed, her long fur glinting in the brightening moonlight. “Sometimes a cat is too dangerous to be left alive. You let them go, but if they keep coming back? How would you stop them from hurting your kin, hm?” Ravenstrike hesitated, so Snowflurry continued, pacing back and forth, her eyes growing wide. “Sometimes the only payment for a life, Ravenstrike, is another life.” Her wild gaze locked with Ravenstrike’s. “The _neck_ , my dear. Slash the sides to drain their body of blood quickly or gorge out their throat to stop them from breathing. And, if you’re strong enough, snap their neck like you would a piece of prey.”

Ravenstrike pressed her belly to the ground, her ears back and eyes wide. “Snowflurry, you’re scaring me.”

“Oh, my sweet, I’m sorry,” Snowflurry suddenly relaxed, her demeanor shifting entirely, then padded up to Ravenstrike and licked her between the ears. “No, no, you needn’t be scared. Not with all the skills I’ve given you, now.”

“I don’t want to kill anyone,” Ravenstrike whispered, trying not to flinch away from Snowflurry’s affection.

“No one does,” Snowflurry crooned, “but sometimes you need to, okay? Sometimes… Sometimes it’s the only way,” her voice hardened again at the end. She abruptly turned away. “I think it’s time we end our engagements.”

In spite of her hesitation of Snowflurry now, Ravenstrike’s heart tugged with sadness. “Why?” she asked, standing.

The she-cat nodded. “It’s time for you to focus on the Clan more than anything, do you understand?” Snowflurry bore into Ravenstrike again with her intense green gaze. “Clan over _everything_ , yes?” Ravenstrike’s stomach clenched. Did the StarClan warrior know about her and Sunheart? Snowflurry began to fade away.

“Wait!” Ravenstrike didn’t want to say goodbye yet. Snowflurry was her mother’s kin, the closest thing she had who really knew her, other than Bravestar.

But it was too late. Ravenstrike jolted awake in her nest, her eyes adjusting to the dimness of the warrior’s den. Crowhop slept soundly beside her. The afterimage of Snowflurry’s emerald eyes slowly faded from Ravenstrike’s vision, and she curled back up to try and sleep until dawn.


	15. The Trouble with Trainees

Ravenstrike sighed, flopping hard into her nest and covered her face with her front paws. The soft sound of Patchsplash’s breathing told her that her old mentor was fast asleep. Frostwhisker had ordered his younger brother to rest after he strained a shoulder. As a result, all the warriors were taking turns looking after Slatepaw.

Slatepaw was a _much_ more attentive apprentice than Rosepaw. Ravenstrike’s apprentice complained a lot, shirked her responsibilities, and acted squeamish over a lot of her duties. The young she-cat preferred to groom herself and nap in the sunshine than do nearly anything else. Ravenstrike worried that she would never make warrior – or that it would take many times longer than a normal apprentice, at least. She was anxious to go to any senior warriors for help, in case they saw her as an unfit mentor and took Rosepaw away from her.

“Ravenstrike?” a soft voice whispered. The she-cat looked up to see Wrenheart beckoning her out of the den. She left Patchsplash and slid out.

“Have you seen Sandpaw?” the former queen asked, “I sent him to fetch clean moss ages ago, he should have been back by now.” Sandpaw was certainly a pawful. He was hot-headed and stubborn, but eager to learn hunting and fighting. Unfortunately, he didn’t care for the more ‘mundane’ tasks that an apprentice was supposed to do.

“No, sorry, I was out with Rosepaw until recently,” Ravenstrike meowed.

“Hmm,” Wrenheart’s tail lashed with irritation. A commotion at the camp entrance caused the she-cats to look over. The hunting patrol started streaming into the clearing, Dusktail at its head. Willownose, Crowhop, Burnpaw, Pinepaw, and Slatepaw all came in, carrying prey. With them, looking smug and holding a large squirrel in his mouth, was Sandpaw.

“What are you doing with the hunting patrol?” Wrenheart demanded, stalking over to the young tom. The look on Sandpaw’s face turned absolutely mutinous.

“We caught him hunting where we were,” Dusktail informed his mate after dropping his catch on the fresh-kill pile. “He _claimed_ you sent him out to hunt by himself.” Dusktail clearly hadn’t believed the apprentice’s lie.

“No, I asked him to fetch fresh moss for nests,” Wrenheart informed the deputy with a glare at Sandpaw.

The sandy-furred tom snorted. “I’m _good_ at hunting. Shouldn’t cats who are good at things do those things? Then _some_ others,” he waved his tail toward Rosepaw, who was grooming herself outside of the apprentice den, “who aren’t good at that stuff can do the _boring_ tasks.”

“That’s not how life in a Clan works,” Wrenheart scolded, “everyone needs to do their part, and if somebody isn’t good at something then they work at it until they are.” Pinepaw, Burnpaw, and Slatepaw all moved off awkwardly, not sure whether they should leave or listen to their littermate get scolded. “Since you don’t think collecting moss is worthy of your talents, you can use the moss from _your_ nest to make the others.”

“What?” Sandpaw jumped to his feet, hair on his spine bristling. “So I’m supposed to sleep on the hard stone?”

“Unless you bother to go collect more moss, yes you are,” Wrenheart snapped in response. Sandpaw spat in anger and stalked off to sulk in the apprentice den. Wrenheart swallowed a growl and licked her chest in an attempt to smooth down her fur.

“I’ll uh, go talk to him,” Slatepaw muttered quietly, starting to slink after her brother.

“Don’t do his work for him,” Dusktail called, laying his tail over his mate’s shoulders.

“What did I miss?” came a rasping voice, and Ravenstrike saw Patchsplash, fresh from sleep, settle down beside her.

“Sandpaw causing Wrenheart some grief,” the she-cat muttered to the old tom. Patchsplash sighed, shaking his head a little.

“Hey, Ravenstrike?” Stormpaw came trotting over, seemingly oblivious to the commotion moments ago. “Frostwhisker said you know where to find some herbs he wants me to fetch, could you take me?”

Ravenstrike exchanged a quick glance with Patchsplash. Frostwhisker barely left the camp these days, and despite bringing him the choicest prey to eat, he was so thin you could see the bones under his pelt.

“Of course,” Ravenstrike told the young medicine cat apprentice. She looked over him toward the apprentice den. “Rosepaw! Come here, we’re going to help Stormpaw collect herbs.”

The dainty she-cat stood with a groan and stretched her whole body. “Okay,” she sighed, padding over. She greeted her brother with a nose to his shoulder, and Stormpaw purred in response. Ravenstrike flicked her tail and led the two apprentices out of camp. Rosepaw complained a little less than normal, and the walk through the forest was calm and quiet. A soft breeze caused the trees to whisper above them, and occasionally send a flurry of browning leaves down around the cats.

Ravenstrike showed Stormpaw some of the herbs he needed, then led the small group upstream along WindClan’s border. The black-furred she-cat tried not to scan the horizon for Sunheart but couldn’t help stealing a glance over from time to time. Before they turned away from the stream, Ravenstrike flicked her tail in the direction they could have kept going. “Up there is the Moonpool,” she told the apprentices, “you’ll meet the other medicine cats there every half-moon, Stormpaw.”

Stormpaw’s gaze lingered in the indicated direction. “He didn’t even go last half-moon,” he said quietly, almost to himself.

“Well, you were a really new apprentice,” Ravenstrike meowed hesitantly, “and Frostwhisker’s been feeling ill lately, so…” she trailed off. Silence stretched on until Rosepaw cut in. “Are we nearly done?”

“Uh, yeah, we’re nearly done,” the warrior sighed, leading the apprentices on.

“What’s beyond Clan territory?” Stormpaw asked after a while, looking off into the darkening woods. The sun was moving toward the horizon, and a cold breeze brushed the cats’ fur.

“I don’t know,” Ravenstrike admitted, sniffing the air. “Just more forest, I guess. Well,” she tilted her head, “you came from over there.” Rosepaw looked at Ravenstrike quizzically, but Stormpaw looked thoughtful.

“Oh, I remember!” Stormpaw raised his tail and pricked his ears toward the unseen twoleg den he was born in. “There was a fire, and mother died after saving us.”

Rosepaw padded up to her brother’s side. “You remember our mother?” The kits had been young enough that it wasn’t unreasonable they wouldn’t remember the queen who had kitted them. In fact, it was surprising that Stormpaw _did_ remember.

“Yes,” Stormpaw meowed, turning away, “she knew we would make her proud.”

Rosepaw wrinkled her nose. “Wait, when did she say that?” the she-cat demanded, bounding after her brother. Ravenstrike followed more slowly, allowing the littermates to talk together. She would find a way to turn Rosepaw into a warrior that her mother _could_ be proud of.

* * *

Bravestar led the cats along WindClan territory, the full moon shining silver down on everyone’s pelts. On either side of Ravenstrike trotted Honeypaw and Slatepaw, eyes shining with excitement.

“Oohh, smell that!” Honeypaw murmured as she lifted her nose to the air and inhaled deeply. “WindClan’s moors smell so fresh and clean!”

Slatepaw twitched her whiskers. “It smells sort of cold and harsh to me,” she retorted. Ravenstrike was watching Patchsplash’s apprentice tonight while her mentor stayed behind to rest.

“Well, I like it,” Honeypaw sniffed, playfully whipping her long tail over Ravenstrike’s back to touch her sister’s flank.

The ThunderClan patrol met up with WindClan as they were crossing the tree to the Gathering island.

“Hello, Flowerpaw,” Ravenstrike greeted the medicine cat apprentice warmly.

“Good evening!” the diluted calico purred, turning from helping an orange tabby scramble up on the log. Ravenstrike recognized the elder Flamescratch from previous Gatherings. “Oh,” Flowerpaw blinked and looked at Slatepaw and Honeypaw. “Are- are these new ThunderClan apprentices?”

“Yes!” Honeypaw strode forward. “I’m Honeypaw, and this is my sister Slatepaw. Stormpaw’s also here somewhere,” the pretty she-cat turned to try and find her brother.

“I’ve never seen a cat with pelt markings like yours,” Flowerpaw observed.

“Let’s let Flowerpaw cross the log, we can chat on the other side,” Ravenstrike suggested hurriedly, and Honeypaw squeaked an apology. WindClan finished crossing and ThunderClan followed suite. Ravenstrike assisted Stormpaw in helping Frostwhisker cross over to the island, the frail medicine cat having insisted on bringing Stormpaw to his first Gathering himself.

“Please, I’m not dead, I can carry my own body thank you,” Frostwhisker snarled feebly, stumbling off the log on the other side. Ravenstrike and Stormpaw exchanged glances and trailed after the old mostly-white tom.

“Frostwhisker! You’re still standing,” Sedgetail greeted the ThunderClan cat. He’d already found, and was talking to, the RiverClan medicine cats.

“You’ll know I’m dead when I haunt your dreams,” Frostwhisker growled in response. Flowerpaw shot a scared glance at her mentor, but Sedgetail only blinked happily.

“Who’s this?” Finchfeather asked, interrupting the toms, indicating Stormpaw with her tail. “Do you have a new apprentice at last?”

“His name’s Stormpaw,” Frostwhisker grunted, “he’s no Minnowpelt but he’ll do.”

“Frostwhisker!” Ravenstrike gasped at the cranky old cat, and she noticed Flowerpaw and Berryblue exchange a shocked look.

“He says that all the time,” Stormpaw meowed smoothly, shrugging. “He’s just cranky and projecting because he’s not as capable as he used to be.” This time, Sedgetail and Finchfeather reacted with a shocked look, but a glance at Frostwhisker showed a spark of joy and youth in his rheumy eyes. Stormpaw could handle the old tom’s attitude and sharp tongue, and Frostwhisker loved him for it.

“Ah, I see Frostwhisker made it finally,” a crackling she-cat’s voice meowed. The medicine cats and Ravenstrike turned to see Halfsight padding toward them, with the small black-furred Bugpaw at her side.

“I wanted to introduce my new apprentice myself,” Frostwhisker explained, then let his gold gaze rest on Bugpaw, “it seems you have one too.”

Halfsight waved her tail. “Yes, this is Bugpaw. He’s proving a much better medicine cat than he was a warrior.”

“When she says stuff like that, I like to assume it’s a compliment,” Bugpaw whispered loudly to Stormpaw, who snorted with laughter.

“How’s Splitface doing?” Ravenstrike asked the ShadowClan cats.

“She had three healthy kits!” Bugpaw boasted for his former mentor.

“Yes, two shes and a tom,” Halfsight shot Ravenstrike a look. “Aren’t you supposed to be milling about with the warriors or something?”

“Of course,” Ravenstrike dipped her head and backed away. She searched out her Clanmates and found Slatepaw, Honeypaw, and Pinepaw talking with the WindClan apprentices Birdpaw and Mousepaw.

“.. and then it ran right into me and I killed it!” Birdpaw was crowing proudly, they grey-and-white she-cat’s pelt twitching with excitement.

“Ravenstrike!” Honeypaw called out to the she-cat. “Birdpaw was just telling us how she and Mousepaw tricked a rabbit into running into its burrow, where Birdpaw was waiting for it!”

“Impressive,” Ravenstrike complimented the littermates, “does WindClan often employ such tactics?”

“Well, we usually hunt in teams to catch rabbits and stuff,” Mousepaw licked a paw and ran it over his silver tabby face, then froze, looking nervous. “Well, that is, it’s just most efficient. Of course, every WindClan warrior can outpace a rabbit if we need to.”

“I wouldn’t think any less,” Ravenstrike purred, leaving to find some warriors to talk to. She padded around and spotted Crowhop speaking with Dawnwing. The WindClan she-cat had her head bowed low and a serious expression on her face.

“Hi there, what’s the news?” Ravenstrike greeted. Crowhop and Dawnwing exchanged glances.

“Nothing important,” Crowhop said, flicking an ear. Dawnwing nodded.

“I haven’t seen Sunheart here tonight.”

“No, he’s guarding camp. If you’ll excuse me,” she meowed coolly, dipping her head to the black cats, and padded off.

Ravenstrike twitched her nose. “What was that about?”

“I guess she’s just got stuff going on,” Crowhop shrugged, avoiding eye contact.

“It sounds like _you_ have stuff going on,” Ravenstrike accused, narrowing her eyes. Crowhop opened his mouth to respond, but then a yowl sounded out, starting the leader’s announcements. The siblings fell quiet, listening to the Clans report kits being born and apprentices being made, and that everyone was healthier than ever. There were some questioning murmurs when Bravestar announced his Clan’s new apprentices, and the gathered cats got a good look at the kittypet-born ThunderClan members. Fortunately no one pushed the issue, and Bravestar was able to continue to speak unchallenged. The leaders then called the Gathering to a close, and themselves dispersed among the gathered cats to chat and catch up. Socialization after the announcements were unlikely to last long, however, as many cats were itching to get back to their dens to escape the nighttime leaf-fall chill.

“Hey Crowhop,” Honeypaw came bounding up, eyes shining, “did you know most WindClan cats have _never_ been in a forest? Like I guess it makes sense but it’s still really weird!” the young she-cat kept chatting to Crowhop about the WindClan apprentices she met, and Ravenstrike had no desire to rescue him at the present time.

“How did you like your first Gathering?” she asked Slatepaw, who came over with Honeypaw and Pinepaw.

Slatepaw tilted her head. “It’s so weird meeting new cats after all this time,” she responded, looking around at the other Clans, “they’re really different but also very similar at the same time. Although,” Slatepaw dropped her voice, “I think some cats are suspicious of us,” she indicated herself and her littermates.

“I’m sure they suspect you aren’t Clanborn,” Ravenstrike meowed quietly, “but it’s not like the Clans haven’t ever taken in rogues and loners and stuff before, so don’t let them get to you.” Slatepaw seemed reassured by this, and the two she-cats began to walk toward the rest of their Clanmates, ready to head home.

* * *

“Okay, I think that’s enough for today,” Ravenstike meowed, and the four apprentices began to shake bits of moss from their fur. She wasn’t entirely happy with their performance today, but she also wanted to try and focus on the positives. Sandpaw would be a great fighter as long as he learned to reign in his aggression; Honeypaw did well in quick bursts before her breath came short; Slatepaw was very good at defensive moves, and just needed encouragement to be more offensive; and finally Rosepaw…

Ravenstrike sighed. Rosepaw lost to all the other apprentices and complained loudly if she thought she got hurt.

“How about everyone go hunt? Get at least one piece of fresh-kill before coming back to camp,” Wrenheart ordered, and the apprentices nodded before beginning to disperse. “Oh, Sandpaw,” the young tom paused and looked back at his mentor, “hunt along the lake, please.” Sandpaw scoffed and bounded off in the direction indicated. Ravenstrike and Patchsplash, who was able to be out and about again, shot a look at Wrenheart. The she-cat sighed. “He doesn’t have very much respect for Clan borders,” she admitted, “sometimes I think he’s just _looking_ for a fight.”

Patchsplash slowly shook his head. “Hopefully he’ll feel differently about fighting once he’s gotten a scratch or two,” the old tom rose to his paws and slowly stretched his stiff muscles.

“I’ll help you back to camp,” Wrenheart offered, moving to stand beside the tom. She turned her blue eyes to Ravenstrike. “Can you follow them all and assess their skills?” she asked, then added more quietly, “and make sure Sandpaw behaves.”

“Sure,” Ravenstrike dipped her head to the two warriors, then took off loping into the forest. She decided to follow Honeypaw first, who trailed off in a similar direction to Sandpaw. The black she-cat followed the little apprentice’s scent until she heard the small fluttering of wings. She silently jumped into a tree and cast around for Honeypaw. Instead, she spotted a robin ruffling through the fallen leaves. Ravenstrike continued to watch the bird until she heard the loud crunch of a dry leaf. The robin warbled a shrill call and fled into the air.

“Mouse-dung!” she heard Honeypaw’s soft swear as the apprentice darted forward and tried to catch the robin. Unfortunately the bird flew too high too quickly, and escaped Honeypaw’s claws. Ravenstrike watched the she-cat glare up where the bird went, tail lashing, before she closed her blue eyes and began to scent the air for her next quarry. Ravenstrike waited until she moved off, and then jumped back to the forest floor and began to search for Sandpaw.

Ravenstrike located the young tom’s scent and eventually found some disturbed earth – evidence of a buried piece of prey. His scent trail continued on toward the lake. Satisfied with that, she doubled back to the training hollow and followed the combined scents of Slatepaw and Rosepaw. They diverged eventually, and Ravenstrike selected Slatepaw’s path first. After a short while she heard the sudden thrumming of paws and the sound of a cat landing on soft leaves. Ravenstrike waited a while, and then investigated the area. Evidence of Slatepaw’s kill lay scattered around the trees, from the hair left on wet ferns that Slatepaw brushed against, to the small bit of blood on the disturbed leaf litter where the prey had died.

Finally, Ravenstrike hunted around for Rosepaw. She followed her own apprentice’s trail until she reached a spot where she scented that a dead mouse had been shoved under some roots and covered with leaves. A thrum of pride rippled through Ravenstrike – Rosepaw was improving! Excited to see her apprentice in action, Ravenstrike followed Rosepaw’s trail. Eventually she was at the border and then stopped, confused. Did the trail end here? Ravenstrike looked around, trying to spot Rosepaw in case she was hiding somewhere. The warrior cautiously ventured over ThunderClan’s border markers and sniffed around, the hair along her spine rising slightly. Rosepaw left Clan territory and headed into the unknown forests!

Fearful, Ravenstrike began to run along the winding path her apprentice took and made a realization: Rosepaw wasn’t setting out into unknown woods – she was headed straight for the twoleg den she was born in!

Ravenstrike calmed her panic. Perhaps the young cat was simply curious about where she was born, that’s all. The warrior continued along until she could begin to glimpse the den between the trees. The faintest scent of charcoal and smoke remained in the area, barely discernable on the cold leaf-fall wind. Ravenstrike looked around and eventually spotted Rosepaw, crouched on a branch in the same tree that Ravenstrike herself had sat in all those moons ago. The she-cat was staring intently at the den, which appeared to have been rebuilt after the fire. Ravenstrike settled behind some bushes to watch Rosepaw. Occasionally the apprentice would perk up, her ears pivoting all the way forward and her tail would begin to twitch slightly as it hung down into the air. Ravenstrike couldn’t see what Rosepaw was interested in as the twoleg fence blocked her view.

Just as dusk came over the forest and cold began to seep under Ravenstrike’s pelt, Rosepaw stood and stretched, then leaped down from the tree and began to trot back toward ThunderClan territory. Ravenstrike twitched an ear in irritation. The young she-cat wasn’t checking her surroundings for danger at all! If she had stopped for a moment to really focus, she might have even been able to scent Ravenstrike. Instead, the warrior was unnoticed by the apprentice, and Ravenstrike eventually made her way back to Clan territory. The warrior tried not to put too much meaning behind Rosepaw’s actions. After all, she herself had investigated the area when she was an apprentice and nothing bad came of it.

Swallowing nervously, Ravenstrike hoped nothing bad would come of Rosepaw’s clandestine exploring either.

* * *

“Do you think I should confront her about it?” Ravenstrike asked, resting her chin across Sunheart’s shoulders. She trusted the tom not to tell his Clan about the problems she presented to him and liked to use his outside perspective to get a new angle on things.

“Probably,” the yellow tom admitted sleepily, his tail curled around Ravenstrike’s hindquarters. “Just be careful not to be too accusatory about it; these apprentices of yours sound really hard-headed.”

Ravenstrike _mrrow_ ed in laughter. “Yeah, you can say that again.” It felt like half of ThunderClan’s apprentices never took a warrior’s word for anything, they had to see it proved to admit that it would be the right way to do something.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” Sunheart asked, uncurling himself from Ravenstrike. She took the opportunity to stand and stretch.

“Yeah, anything,” she meowed.

Sunheart’s expression was hard to read in the dim tunnel, but she saw his head tilt to the side. “I was wondering if anyone in your Clan was getting their nose in your business,” he meowed, “you know, like, about these visits maybe?”

“Uh, no not really,” Ravenstrike responded, guarded. “No one has interrogated me or anything.”

“Hm, okay,” Ravenstrike heard Sunheart’s tail swish along the ground, “Dawnwing has kinda been on my tail lately, constantly asking where I’m going and trying to volunteer for the same patrols as me,” he snorted.

Alarm coursed through Ravenstrike. “You don’t think she knows?” she whispered.

Sunheart shrugged. “I think she has _suspicions_ but there’s no way she can confirm them.” His voice was dripping with confidence.

“What if she tells someone?”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Sunheart rubbed his head under Ravenstrike’s chin, “she won’t tell anybody, even if she did find out. She’s my sister, she wouldn’t do that to me.” Ravenstrike wished she shared Sunheart’s confidence.

“I should be getting back anyway. This was nice,” she purred, touching noses with the WindClan tom.

“Yeah, it was,” he responded, then vanished deeper into the tunnel.

Ravenstrike crawled her way out from under the tree roots that concealed the tunnel entrance. She adjusted the branches to cover the roots and brushed up against some nearby dewy plants to banish the scent of cold stone and WindClan. She then began to trot upstream, scenting for prey as she went. She eventually came upon ThunderClan’s border with the wild woods and cast around for scents.

_There_ , she detected, heart sinking. Rosepaw had crossed the border again. With a heavy sigh, Ravenstrike sat down and waited.

Eventually she heard the soft pawsteps of her apprentice and rose to her feet.

“Oh, Ravenstrike!” Rosepaw meowed, startled.

“Hi Rosepaw. Where have you been?” Ravenstrike asked, sitting and curling her tail around her paws.

“Oh, er, um, I chased some prey over the border.”

The warrior looked around. “You didn’t catch it, I guess?”

Rosepaw sighed. “Stop patronizing me,” she grumbled, and began to stalk away.

“Not so fast,” Ravenstrike said sternly, jumping to block Rosepaw’s way. “Listen, I didn’t listen the best as an apprentice either, but that doesn’t mean that whatever I decided to do was safe,” the she-cat attempted to reason, “I would rather you didn’t keep vising that twoleg den, but if you do, you need to make sure your duties are taken care of first. Don’t come back empty-pawed when you’re supposed to be hunting, and always _always_ be on the lookout for danger, okay?”

Rosepaw gave her mentor a long, suspicious look. “Okay,” she agreed slowly.

“Good,” Ravenstrike nodded. She was probably going far too easy on the young she-cat but couldn’t bring herself to discipline her for an action she didn’t see as _that_ bad. “Come on; I caught a good amount of prey and you can help me bring it back.” The two cats spent the walk back to camp in silence, stopping occasionally to unbury some fresh-kill Ravenstrike had caught.

They padded in to a calm camp, seeing their Clanmates sprawled out to enjoy what sunshine they could. Burnpaw and Aspenpaw were cleaning out the warrior’s den, playfully rolling a large moss ball between them as they transported it out of the clearing. Ravenstrike and Rosepaw deposited their prey on the fresh-kill pile, and Rosepaw went to clean herself outside the apprentice’s den. Ravenstrike took a moment to sort through some prey and make sure nothing had gone bad when Sandpaw came striding through the camp entrance, three plump mice dangling from his jaw by their tails.

“Oh, wow,” Ravenstrike praised, “those are some juicy mice! Did you dig up a nest?”

Sandpaw shrugged, dropping the mice on the top of the pile. “I noticed nobody hunts near the old twoleg den and found them there.”

Ravenstrike sniffed at the catch, noticing an odd musky odor on the prey’s fur. “You didn’t hunt _in_ the den, right?”

Sandpaw began chewing on one of his front claws. “Well Wrenheart told me not to, so.”

The black-furred she-cat narrowed her eyes. “There’s a reason we don’t hunt in there, it’s dangerous.”

“If you’re not a mouse-brain it’s not that bad,” Sandpaw sniffed.

The scent of herbs wafted over the pair, and Ravenstrike turned her head to see Stormpaw padding over. The young tom was beginning to smell like the medicine den wherever he went.

“Look at those mice!” He exclaimed. “That’s great, actually, Frostwhisker was saying we needed more mouse bile.”

“How fortunate,” Ravenstrike turned to Sandpaw, “How about you share these mice with the medicine cats, then help Stormpaw extract the bile?”

The warrior apprentice wrinkled his nose. “I don’t-”

“That’d be great, thanks Sandpaw!” Stormpaw purred, his grey-blue eyes opening wide. He picked the mice up and trotted cheerfully back toward the medicine den. Sandpaw slunk after him, shooting an icy glare back at Ravenstike as he went.

The she-cat sighed. Hopefully the young tom would learn to listen to the warriors before he seriously hurt himself.


End file.
